


Bed Sheets

by the_winchester_project



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Related, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Fanfiction, Feels, M/M, My First Fanfic, References to Supernatural (TV), Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 06:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5574577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_winchester_project/pseuds/the_winchester_project
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel. Badass angel of the Lord. Not any more.</p><p>With Cas newly human, life is hard. He doesn't understand many things, including how to use modern technology. He also fails at hunting, resulting in a fatal mistake in his first hunt. How will Sam, Dean and Cas cope this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the writers, producers and cast of Supernatural for giving me and countless others the inspiration to write. A special thanks to my editors, and Märta for being there for me. Love you, älsk.

He woke abruptly in a cold sweat and sat straight up, his breathing rapid and harsh.

"It was just a dream." He told himself, as he calmed down. He wasn't used to dreaming yet. He'd never slept as an angel, so he had never had dreams. Or nightmares. This was a whole new experience for him. Swinging his legs round to the side, he slid out of bed. His bare feet touched the soft carpet, and he wiggled his toes, enjoying the feeling of the fibres between them. Running a hand through his knotted, greasy hair, he walked across the room to the en suite bathroom. He opened the door, and it creaked, piercing the absolute silence. The tile flooring was cold, and he shivered as he stepped onto it. He stood before the mirror and stared into it, grasping each side of the sink.

There he was. Late 30's, dark, short, messy hair, striking blue eyes, slight stubble on his jaw line. Perceptible shadows under his eyes, healthy skin, but slightly paler than usual. Eyebrows forming a slight frown, lips pushed together in concentration as he evaluated his appearance. Conclusion: He looked like crap. Sighing, Castiel roused himself and switched the shower on. He just couldn't get the water right - at first, it was too cold, and he exclaimed as it hit him in full force. He jumped back, slipping on the wet floor and catching himself just before he could fall. Warily, he pulled himself up. Fiddling at the dial, he turned it all the way up and burned his arm. Cursing, he turned it down to what he presumed was a medium setting, and heaved out a sigh of relief as he got the temperature perfect. Under the curtain of water, Cas felt isolated from all of his problems. He forgot about The Fall, about his humanity, and about their last failure of a hunt. He soaped his hair, washed down his body, and then just stood, letting the water run over his face, cleansing his soul. He had never understood why Dean had made such a big deal over the water pressure in the bunker, but now he did. Now that he was human. It was wonderful.

Finally, he turned the water off and felt through the dense steam for a towel and a shirt. He found both, and dried himself before donning the shirt. It was quite fitted and showed the outline of his vessel's muscles. He should really start viewing his vessel as himself - they were one and the same now. He slid his pants and jeans on back in his room, and then left for the door. At the last minute, he turned round and grabbed his angel blade. Just in case.

Cas strolled through the corridors, his bare feet slapping on the floor. He reached the kitchen, bumping into a fire extinguisher by the door. He glanced down threateningly at the extinguisher before sticking his head around the door. No one. Were Sam and Dean seriously still asleep? That was so uncharacteristic of them. He decided that he would treat the Winchesters to breakfast. Cas pottered around the kitchen, trying to get appliances to work. He turned a knob and it made a clicking sound, releasing a horrible smell. Try as he might, he couldn't turn it back again. Frantically, he shook it, tried to lift it, and tried pushing down on it. As he pushed it, the gas lit up and set fire to Cas' t-shirt.

"Ahhh, crap!" He cussed, slapping at the shirt, trying to put out the fire, but it only spread. As a last ditch effort, he took it off and threw it into the sink. It sizzled as it splashed into the water. Coughing, he wafted the smoke away. At least he had gotten the ring of fire thing to work. Now, where were the pans? He sorted through the cupboards and found one.

"Score one to the human, nil to the homicidal oven." Cas said, glaring at the ominous ring of fire. Turning his attention to the fridge, he pulled open the door and rifled through its contents. Eventually, he came across an unopened packet of burgers.

"Dean likes burgers..." Cas mumbled to himself, and brought them over to the pan. He retrieved his angel blade from his pocket, shrugged, and used it to slice open the pack of burgers. He put three into the pan, one on top of the other, put a lid on top, and turned up the heat to full. One for each of them. Now to address his problem of having no shirt.

Cas had only got one shirt, since he had only been human for just over a week and he hadn't had time to buy any. Originally, he'd had two, but the other was so full of dust and grime that he'd binned it. Reminded him of the hunt. He had considered asking Sam or Dean for one many times, but they had already given so much, and it felt wrong asking them for more. And he had just burned a hole in his one shirt. He figured Dean wouldn't mind if Cas borrowed one of his shirts for now. So Cas made his way down the corridors again, and found Dean's room. He hesitated outside the door. Would Dean be mad? Cas convinced himself that Dean would be fine. It was only one shirt, right? He pushed gently on the door and it creaked. He cringed as he heard a moan from inside, but then silence returned. How on Earth was Dean still asleep? Well, their last hunt had been particularly trying for him, being a vampire snack wasn't easy to recover from. Cas still blamed himself for that. If he'd been an angel, nothing would have happened to Dean. Sam was probably asleep because he had been up all night and morning checking on Dean the day before. Cas had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion, otherwise he would've stayed up with Sam. Peeking around the door, Cas confirmed that Dean was still asleep and crept over to his wardrobe.

Plaid. So much plaid. Cas flicked through the 50 different shirts, but couldn't bring himself to pick a single one. They'd been recently washed, but still smelled of Dean. He smiled to himself, lost in thought. There was a sudden noise behind him, and Cas pivoted, beginning to make an excuse.

"Dean, I'm-"

Dean hadn't woken up. It seemed that he was having some sort of nightmare. He was jerking in his sleep, thrashing and moaning, completely at mercy to the horrible dream.

"Cas... Cas! No... No, not Cas! Stop... No..."

Castiel had watched over Dean as he slept so many nights when he had been an angel. This seemed to be a recurring nightmare of Dean's. Cas wasn't an angel anymore, so he couldn't sooth Dean with a touch like he used to, but Cas walked over to the hunter and sat on the edge of his bed. Taking Dean's hand, he stroked it, calming him.

"I'm right here, Dean. I won't let anything happen, don't worry." He whispered.

He began to stroke Dean's neck, but stopped as Dean flinched. Even from here, he could see the fang marks on Dean's neck. It must still be hurting, despite the strong façade Dean put up. It frustrated Cas that he couldn't just heal Dean, and it upset him: He hadn't been able to help Dean, or save him. He felt something else too, but he couldn't quite place what the feeling was. He was still growing accustomed to the ebb and flow of human emotions. As Dean drifted off into a more relaxed sleep, Castiel roused himself from his thoughts and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He still didn't have a shirt! He shrugged, and walked leisurely back to the kitchen, a smile on his face and a skip in his step. He pushed the door open.

There was smoke everywhere. As soon as Cas opened the door, lights and alarms began going off. Urgent red flashing, piercing wailing. His senses were overwhelmed. Covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he ran in and quickly realised that the burgers had set on fire. Darting to the cupboards, he grabbed a bowl, sending pots and pans skidding across the room and creating a horrendous clamour. He slid over to the tap and desperately pulled at it and twisted the handle until the water jetted out. The bowl filled quickly, but made a mess, splashing water all over Cas' upper body and jeans. Leaving the tap running, he threw the bowl of water at the burgers. It had absolutely no effect whatsoever. Panicking, Cas backtracked to the door and wiped at his watering eyes before picking up the fire extinguisher. He started coughing as he tried to figure out how to use it, and eventually pulled out a pin, firing foam at the burgers and the rest of the room that had been set alight. He sighed, feeling triumphant in his victory over the homicidal oven. However, this moment didn't last long. Looking down, his lips shaped an O as he inspected the flooded floor. His gaze slowly travelled up to the kitchen units, and then to the sink, where the water was mixing with the ash and flowing over the edge like a waterfall of tar, only more runny.

"Is nothing ever simple?" Castiel questioned himself.

He splashed past the floating pans to the overflowing sink and wrestled with the tap, finally turning it off. Having dealt with the flames and the Leviathan-like water, Cas turned his attention to their breakfast. He grabbed some bread, which had luckily escaped Cas and the foam, and made some sandwiches out of the soggy, foamy burgers. Fishing three plates from the new kitchen pond, Cas presented the burgers on them as best he could (given that the white plates were now grey, and the room was still densely smoky), and then carried them to the table, putting his down and balancing Sam and Dean's in either hand. On his way to the door, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the fridge. There was soot all over his chest, and his eyes contrasted starkly with the soot all over his face. Droplets of water were shining on his body, and his jeans were visibly soaked. He shrugged, and continued to the door. Pushing the door open with his foot, he emerged from the smoke, face to face with Sam and Dean. They looked shocked. Understatement.

"I made breakfast!" Cas said brightly, proffering the two plates.


	2. An Explanation.

Dean woke up, feeling slightly sick in his stomach. Something bad was going to happen. Shaking off the feeling, he sat up and stretched, then brushed a hand down the back of his neck, rubbing it, but carefully avoiding the fang marks. Not that he would let his brother or Cas know, but it hurt like a son of a bitch, and he still felt light-headed and dizzy. His head snapped up as the deafening bunker alarms activated, screaming at Dean. He was out of bed in seconds, his hand slipping under his pillow for the gun he always slept with. Better to be safe than sorry. Clicking off the safety, he dashed across the room and flung open his door. It crashed into the wall with a resounding bang. He bolted down the hallway, sliding round the corners in his bare feet. Of all the nights to have slept topless. He got to Cas' door and pushed it open, brandishing his gun. It was empty. Oh crap. He swivelled and ran down the corridor to Sam's room. Thankfully, he bumped into his brother before he got there. Thank God Sam was okay.

"Cas' gone!" Dean shouted breathlessly over the screeching of the alarm, clasping a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam met his brother's eyes, confused and worried for their friend, but for Dean too. He didn't look quite right; paler than usual. Probably after effects of their last hunt. Cas was their main concern right now, though.

"Split up, we'll cover more ground." Sam suggested.

Dean nodded, and Sam branched off down one end of the corridor, Dean the other. Dean made his way tactfully through each room, pushing open doors, creeping through rooms, finding nothing. He got to the end of the corridor, and tried turning the handle. Locked. He didn't have his lock pick, and it would take too long to get it from his room and then use it, so he drew back, and kicked the door in. The crash echoed around the bunker as the door was wrenched off of its hinges, despite the loud alarm. Dean ran in, all former cautiousness abandoned. The room was dark, and he could only make out shadows. Holding his gun in front of him offensively, Dean switched the lights on, but the room was empty, aside from some old furniture and books. It had simply been a locked store room, nothing special. Cursing at his stupidity, he flicked the lights off, and tried to place the door back, but failing. Eventually, he settled for resting the door against the outside wall. He, Sam and Cas would fix it later. He walked down the stairs, and started along the bottom corridor but stopped as he was suddenly overcome by a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the wall for support, he slid to the floor and waited for it to pass, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Sam appeared beside him from out of nowhere, and slid to a stop beside his brother. Grabbing Dean's arm, he mouthed, "Are you okay?"

Dean nodded uncertainly, but stood anyway and patted his brother's arm. "I'm okay now." He shouted in reply, and Sam released the other Winchester's arm. Dean then asked his brother if he had found anything.

"Nothing!" Sam replied. He would ask Dean about what just happened later. He was getting really scared for his older sibling. Dean had lost a lot of blood.

Now getting worried, Dean motioned to Sam, and they scoped the library. Where the hell was Cas? The Winchesters walked out of the batcave's library, and down the corridor that lead to the kitchen. Dean turned the corner first, Sam hanging behind so he could watch over him. Dean stopped abruptly, indicating with his hand that Sam should do the same. Smoke was leaking out from the sides of the door, and there was black liquid oozing malevolently from under the door. An audibly violent commotion was coming from the room, despite the deafening alarms. Dean looked back to his younger brother, and they advanced. The two of them stopped outside the room, standing in the black stuff, guns raised. Dean felt the click of the gun as he cocked it, heard Sam do the same. Sam held his fingers up in a countdown.

3... 2... 1...

Just as Sam moved to push open the door, it was kicked open, and Sam and Dean stumbled back, guns held up defensively. The smoke billowed from the open doorway, looking a lot like a demon smoking out. At first, nothing happened. There was just darkness, as the smoke unfurled into the corridor, encompassing the boys. Dean's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and he stepped forwards cautiously, trying to hold in an inevitable cough. A figure began to emerge from the kitchen. Dean sucked in a withheld breath at the sight of the stranger, but instantly regretted it as he started coughing, holding up a hand to his mouth, the other still tightly grasping the gun.

"Dean, drop your gun." Sam shouted over the alarm, clicking the safety back into place and slipping his gun into the back of his trousers.  
Dean looked up suspiciously as the figure's face became clearer, the smoke slowly dissipating into the corridor. Cas stood there, holding two plates towards Dean and his brother.

•••••

Cas said something that Dean didn't quite hear, but it looked like he said... Breakfast? Cas stepped forwards, offering the plates to the two hunters.

Sam ran a hand through his out-of-control lush hair jungle, and walked off, presumably to deactivate the alarms. It was giving Dean a headache. He stared at Cas, not being able to look away from Cas' eyes. They were so blue... Cas stared back.

Suddenly, the alarms and the irritating, flashing lights shut off. Dean jumped out of his daze, and blinked, breaking eye contact with the angel. Sam rounded the corner as Cas looked down, wafting at the small amount of lingering smoke.

"Now we can talk, and actually hear what we're saying." Sam said, ignoring the obvious tension between the other two. He was way too used to it. Would they just get together already?

Dean was speechless. He looked over to Cas, and then to Sam, then back to Cas, his mouth slightly parted, eyebrows raised. When he finally found his voice, he simply asked, "Cas, where's- where's your shirt?"

Sam turned to Dean. God, his brother was so gay. Not that he had a problem with that. If he'd just come out already! "Is that the thing that's really bothering you right now? Cas' shirt? What about... What about the kitchen?" Sam laughed, bemused, and peeked round the door. "Christ, Cas, you really did a number on it, by the way."

"My shirt caught fire - your oven wants me dead. I suggest you buy a new one." Cas turned to the other Winchester. "Thank you, Sam."

"No problem, Cas." Sam sighed, shaking his head.

Cas looked back to Dean, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. Upon registering that Dean was shirtless, he stuttered, before finally saying, "H-How was your sleep, Dean?"

Dean dismissed Cas' hesitation, and replied, "It was fine... Wait, Cas, what the hell? What...? Why...? How...?"

He looked at Cas, still trying to get over the shock of what had just happened, and trying oh so hard to avoid looking at Cas' bare, blackened chest. Turning away, he walked into the library and pulled a chair out from the table, sitting down abruptly. Sam followed, sitting on the other side of the table. Cas disappeared back into the kitchen, and reappeared, balancing a third plate on his arm. Sam cringed, expecting it to be dropped, but it made it to the table in once piece. Cas sat beside Dean, setting the burgers on to the table. He slid one to Dean, and the other to Sam. Dean stared at the... What the hell was it? He stared at the foamy thing, and tried to find his voice.

"Cas. What- what is this?" Dean delicately asked.

"It's our breakfast. I made it myself!"

"Maybe cooking isn't your vocation, Cas." Sam said from the other side of the table.

"This is unbelievable" Dean thought to himself, then looked away from the burger, and back to Cas, instead saying "What happened?"

"Okay, don't kill me. I wanted to make you breakfast since you were still asleep, so I came down to sort something out but then my shirt caught fire so I went to your room-" Cas babbled, then stopped himself. "My shirt caught fire, so I took it off and threw it in the sink, and then the burgers set on fire."

"Cas, you were in my room?"

"No..." Cas smiled nervously. Whoops.

Dean looked at his friend, who couldn't lie unless it was to save someone's life. "Cas..."

"Okay, I was just going to borrow a shirt!"

"So why are you-" Dean gestured to Cas' chest, "-still shirtless?"

"I didn't borrow one of your shirts."

Dean looked over to Cas, eyebrows raised. There was something that the angel wasn't telling him. Dismissing it, Dean sighed and stood back up, pacing back and forth.

"Give me a second to wrap my head around this. You set fire to the bunker just by trying to make us... Breakfast?" Dean asked as he abruptly stopped pacing, and turned to face Cas.

"Human technology is hard to use, it is very complex for me to figure out."

Sam started laughing, the sound echoing off of the walls of the bunker, and not being able to resist the infectious sound, Dean grinned.

"I'll go get a brush, sweep up the ash, and get rid of some of the water." Sam chuckled, and left the room.

Once Sam had left, Cas turned to the remaining hunter.

"Dean... Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, Cas, why would you ask?"

"It's just that... Never mind." He said, smiling. "I will go help Sam."

"Hey, wait! Do you want to go get a shirt?"

"Okay. Thank you, Dean."

Cas left the room, leaving Dean to his thoughts. Were they still worrying about him after the hunt? God, it had only been one hunt! Sighing, Dean picked up the burgers one at a time, and tipped them into the bin by the entrance to the library. Stacking the plates, he made his way back to the kitchen, singing to himself under his breath.

"Now I lay me down to sleep...  
Pray the lord my soul to keep...  
If I die before I wake...  
Pray the lord my soul to take..."


	3. The Clean-Up.

The boys spent the day thoroughly cleaning out the kitchen. It went without a hitch. Mostly.

Cas was handling the brush, sweeping the water out of the kitchen into a bucket that Dean was holding. Sam was using a smaller dustpan and brush, sweeping up the ash and any burned food. The radio was on one of the undamaged shelves, playing classic rock. Cas yawned, then pushed the brush forwards again, the bristles making a strangely satisfying noise on the tile floor. He looked over to Dean, and met his emerald green eyes. Cas tilted his head slightly as Dean quickly looked back down. Had Dean been staring at him? Cas focussed on sweeping, pondering as to what it could mean, if anything. Swish, lift, swish, lift, swish, lift. He yawned again. God, he was so tired.  
•••••

*Dean*

God, he was so tired. He hadn't felt this tired since... Since when? He could live off of 2 hours normally, but now he was struggling after 10. What the hell? Maybe it was the nature of the task; boring, repetitive, had he mentioned boring? Dean looked up to Cas, who looked equally tired, if not more so. Dean couldn't help but stare at Cas. He looked so hot in Dean's shirt. Hotter without a shirt- wait. What was he thinking? Cas was his friend, nothing more. Cas looked up, meeting Dean's eyes, and Dean looked away, staring fixedly at the super-interesting bucket. Even with the rock music in the background, this felt pretty awkward. Smiling, Dean started to formulate a plan.

Cas worked tirelessly for the next 10 minutes, and the two of them filled the bucket in no time. Sighing with relief, Cas leaned onto the brush, eyes closed. Dean held a laugh back, and picked up the bucket. Sam was just behind Cas, facing the worktop and wiping down the hob. Perfect. He positioned the bucket, swung back, and launched the water at the two of them.

Cas jumped out of his skin, jerking backwards and sending the brush skidding across the room. Sam's back straightened with shock, and he cursed, turning around to face Dean.

"Dean...." Sam said menacingly, fire in his eyes.  
Dean grinned, and shot out of the kitchen. Sam followed, swinging around the doorway, Cas close on his heels, their rapid footsteps thundering down the bunker corridors. Dean laughed, sliding round a corner leading to a locked door. Crap. He swivelled, just as Sam and Cas launched themselves on him.

Dean didn't regret his actions for a second, even if it meant the three of them had twice as much work to do in the kitchen, and had to deal with the after effects of their mini wrestling match. Dean was now covered in black smudges, thanks to Cas getting his own back, and throwing the dustpan of ash at Dean. Cas was actually pretty strong, despite his humanity. Dean shouldn't have underestimated him. The three of them got back to cleaning, and they finally finished sorting the kitchen towards the end of the day, slumping into the library chairs. It had been strangely liberating. Not hunting for once, just doing something that anyone would do (aside from setting fire to the kitchen). Feeling normal. Dean strolled over to the fridge, admiring their work, and grabbed three beers by the bottle necks. He threw one to Sam, who caught it and popped it open. Not trusting Cas' reaction times, Dean simply passed the beer to him. Their hands touched momentarily, and Dean smiled, feeling butterflies in his stomach. What was wrong with him? _Cas was a friend, nothing more!_ He repeated to himself. Confused, and slightly frustrated at himself, he popped open his own beer. He glanced over to Cas, and looked on, amused, as Cas struggled with his bottle. Dean was content to sit and let Cas wrestle with the lid, but after a while, Sam reached over and opened it.

"Thank you, Sam." Cas said, looking over to Sam, before taking a large gulp of the alcohol.

"Whoa there, buddy! Take it easy! You don't have holy alcohol tolerance any more!" Dean cautioned Cas, laughing.

Sam smiled, and for once in his life, Dean felt content. Happy. Here he was, sat with his brother, and his closest friend, and they were sat together, drinking beer. Yes, it seemed awfully mundane, but any sense of normality was treasured by the Winchesters.

All three of them departed soon afterwards to get a shower, they were filthy. One by one they returned to the library. Dean was first down, and popped open another beer while he waited, consumed by his thoughts.

As both Cas and Sam arrived, Dean roused himself, and sauntered over to the sofa. He pulled up Netflix as Cas plopped himself next to Dean, so close he was almost sat on Dean's lap. Again, Dean smiled. Trying to take his mind off of it, he flicked through Netflix before finally switching on Game Of Thrones. He was pretty sure Cas would like it. Sam walked in with a bowl of popcorn, and slid it onto the table before sighing and falling back into the cushions, next to Cas.

"Dude, where's the liquorice?"

"We don't have liquorice, because liquorice is disgusting!"

"Says the guys who eats peanut butter and banana sandwiches!"

"Hey, I stand by that sandwich! No one likes liquorice, it's made of dirt!"

"But it's a classic, right up there with- with this!" Dean argued, gesturing at their bowl of popcorn.

"You're kidding me, right? You're out of your mind!" Sam retorted, trying to withhold a laugh.

"It's like little chewy pieces of heaven!" Dean replied, smirking. The things they could argue about... "Cas, what do you think of liquorice?" Dean asked his friend, turning to face him. They were inches from each other. Dean could see every detail of Cas' face, every almost non existent freckle, every line, every... Dean blinked. What the hell?

"I haven't ever tried liquorice..." Cas replied, scared that he had somehow let Dean down. Sam laughed, victorious.

"We are settling this right now! Sam, I'm nipping to the shops, buy some real snacks. Start Game of Thrones while I'm gone." Dean got up, and, swiping the keys from the side, walked out the door to Baby. How could Sam not like liquorice?

As it turned out, Cas did like liquorice, and he and Dean teamed up against Sam in their debate on the best cinema snack. This aside, all three of them enjoyed Game Of Thrones, and discussed plot twists and characters. As time wore on, eventually the boys retired to their rooms.  
\--

Dean woke feeling pretty well rested. Yawning, he lifted his wrist to check the time; it was 10am. What was with his sleeping schedule lately? He pushed a hand through his hair before climbing out of bed. His sheets could do with a change. He pulled all the sheets away, and bundling them up, carried them to the washing machine. Having done this, he wandered over to Sam's room - empty. Next he opened Cas' door, and his room was empty too. Making his way round the corner to the library, he found both of them on the sofa, well into the next season of Game Of Thrones. How long had they been up?!

Dean coughed, and the other two swivelled around guiltily from where they were sat.

"Hey, Dean." Sam said, jumping up from the couch. "We didn't want to wake you."

"Mhmm?" Dean replied, unconvinced. They had had no problem waking him up any other time.

"Any supernatural action?" Dean asked, walking away from Sam to the laptop, which was currently on the local police files.

"Nothing, radio silence..."

"So why is there a possible vamp case pulled up on your laptop?" Dean asked, looking up to his brother sceptically.

"Just... Look, Dean, are you sure you want to jump back in so soon? I mean, it's a vamp, too... Cas and I have noticed that you're acting up lately, ever since- ever since the last hunt. Your sleeping schedules are crazy, and we can tell it still hurts." Sam gestured to his neck.

Dean pondered this for a moment, before replying. "I'm gonna go pack our crap. Cas, maybe it's better you stay back this time, maybe go out to a strip club, get some action?" For some reason, Dean felt jealous that Cas might be with a woman. He dismissed the thought, and walked out of the room.

Cas looked up to Sam worriedly from the sofa, and turned Game Of Thrones off. Sam glanced back. Dean would be fine. He probably just needed to get back in the game. Maybe they all did: Climb back on the horse before it was too late. Sam followed Dean, leaving Cas alone in the room.

*Castiel*

Sam and Dean left soon afterwards. They had had a late start, and needed to get over to the next state asap. Cas listened from the entrance as the Impala rumbled to life, and rolled away. He could understand why Dean didn't want him on the hunt, but what if something happened to them because he wasn't there this time? In an attempt to calm himself, he walked back inside, and paced corridors, trying to find a task to take his mind off off the hunt. Dean had said he should go to a strip club, but he didn't particularly fancy entering such a den of iniquity. He had had his fill after watching Game of Thrones. Instead, he paced corridors, lost in thought. He wished that he had his wings, he could fly over to help Sam and Dean with the hunt without being a hindrance. Emerging from his mind, he found himself outside Dean's room. The covers had been stripped off of the bed, presumably to wash. Smiling to himself, Cas decided to strip his bed too. After all, it can't be that hard, right?


	4. Bed Sheets.

Okay, so maybe bed sheets were harder to change than Cas had anticipated. He spent an hour fighting with his sheets, finally yanking them off of the mattress. He may or may not have ripped them. No one would find out. Hopefully. He dragged the sheets down to the wash room and pulled Dean's out of the washing machine once the cycle had finished. There were some powders and gels on the side. Relying on his common sense, he threw the sheets into the machine, and then squirted a ton of liquid in with the clothing. He took another half an hour trying to get the machine to work, but finally managed to get it to do something. He hoped he had done it right. Yawning, he walked back to the library, and started the next season of Game Of Thrones. Sam and Dean could catch up when they got back.

The cycle finally finished 2 episodes later and luckily for Cas, he seemed to have put it on the right setting. And he was sure that it was completely normal for the floor to be covered in soapy suds. Treading carefully, he retrieved his sweet smelling sheets, and made the trip back to his room. Glaring at the bed, he launched himself into the task.  
\--

*Dean*

The hunt cleared up relatively quickly; they finished up that night. The vamp was going it alone, so there was no nest to clean up, and it was a simple task of beheading it and burying it. Better to leave no evidence. On the contrary, the vamp had left plenty of evidence. It was almost... Too easy. But right now, Dean didn't want to dwell on this. He just wanted to celebrate their easy win with alcohol. Lots of alcohol. With luck, the two of them would be back in the bunker that very night, doing exactly that. Dean nodded to Sam, who was currently wiping down their machete, and put the pedal to the metal, Bon Jovi raring to life.

They got back in record time: Baby had done him proud. It wasn't quite dark yet, but nighttime was beginning to set in. That was the thing with summer time; it got dark relatively late. Dean killed the engine as Sam unlocked the bunker. Following Sam in, he found his brother stood by the television. Looks like Cas had been busy, he'd watched a couple more Game Of Thrones episodes. Cas himself wasn't around, so Dean guessed he would be in his room, which was only a corridor away. Dean grabbed a couple of beers straight from the fridge, and jogged over to his room. He was about to knock when he heard some noises coming from behind the door. Bedsprings. And was that... Cas, groaning? The smile slipped from Dean's face, and he backed away slowly. Oh. _Oh_. There was less of a spring in his step as he made his way back to the library. Sure, he had suggested that Cas should get some action, and the guy deserved it... Why did he feel so disappointed? He rounded the corner to the library, and Sam spied him from the sofa.

"I figured that Cas wouldn't mind rewatching the epi- what's up? Where's Cas?" Sam asked, confused.

"Cas is... You know." Dean replied, sitting beside Sam. Now that he knew the sounds were there, he could faintly hear them. He really tried to ignore it, but it seemed to be so loud all of a sudden. "Just turn it on."

Sam shrugged, and clicked play.

Dean tried to pay attention to the next half an hour, but he couldn't take his mind off of Cas. Who was she? What happened? Where did they meet? They heard some footsteps behind them on the laminate, and Sam and Dean swivelled to see Cas stumble into the room. His hair was dishevelled, and his clothes looked haphazardly throw on. Dean closed his eyes for a second, and then opened them, preparing himself. Why he even needed to prepare himself, he didn't know. He'd been all kinds of crazy lately.

"Dean... Can you help me? I think it will work better with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm guessing that if you are reading this, you read the whole of my fan fiction. I hope you enjoyed it. Originally, I was going to leave it at 4 chapters, but someone commented that it would be cool to continue. What do you think to that? If want me to continue writing this, leave a comment, and let me know what ideas you want me to expand on. Thanks! :)


	5. A Flashback.

Being human was crappy. But at least Cas wouldn't have a boring, run-of-the-mill life. He wasn't an angel anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a hunter. And today, he was going on his first hunt. Sam and Dean had already checked it out, it looked like a simple in-and-out job. A rogue vampire, leaving a sloppy trail in its wake. Should be a good hunt to ease Cas into the profession. Cas yawned and stretched on the sofa, flicking his wrist to check the time on his watch. 5am. He'd better go get dressed, Sam and Dean would already be awake and ready to go. The vamp case was only a couple of states over, but the boys liked to get there bright and early, to scope the place out. Cas grinned. Maybe it was a good thing that he was human. He'd been a shit angel. Now he had a second chance to be better. And he'd embrace this chance. Standing up, he walked through to his bedroom. Changing out of the dressing gown he'd found in one of the empty bunker rooms, he slid into his shirt. He only had two, but right now that was all he needed. He should probably ask Dean for another, but right now he had to focus on the hunt. He'd ask straight after they finished up.

Cas finished up in his room and then sat on his bed, taking it all in. No less than a week ago, he'd been an angel, with no home. Now he was human, he had his own room and two friends that he felt even closer to now. Yes, his room might not be the biggest room, but it was his. It was also very bare, but Cas didn't have any personal possessions he could fill it with. Just a gun, machete, angel blade, and... and his trenchcoat. He preferred not to wear it, it reminded him of worse times. It was hidden in the very back of his closet. Cas opened the drawers beside his bed and grabbed the machete and angel blade. He didn't go anywhere without the angel blade. Checking again that he hadn't left anything, he doubled back for his phone. He'd need that. Satisfied that he had everything, Cas dashed out of his room and pulled the door shut with a click. He was actually pretty excited. His first real hunt as a human. It felt good, knowing that Sam and Dean trusted him to be able to do this. And he would show them; just because he was human, didn't mean he couldn't hunt. He hadn't mastered whistling yet, but if he could, he was pretty sure he would be whistling a tune to himself as he ran down the stairs that led to the garage. 9 times out of 10 he would find Dean here.

Jackpot. Dean was deep inside the Impala, fiddling with the engine. Upon hearing Cas' footsteps on the floor, Dean pulled himself out of the hood of his baby and rubbed his hands together. He had oil on his face and his shirt. It was a pretty dark shirt, so it was hardly visible until it caught the light. _God, he was hot_. Wait - what? Cas' eyes refocused and he realised he had been staring at Dean, who was snapping his fingers in front of Cas' face.

"Hello? Anyone home?" Dean asked, smirking as he stopped clicking.

"Sorry, I was just thinking." Cas smiled, and passed the weird thought off as some weird after effect of becoming human. "Where's Sam?"

"He's making a last minute supply run for some crap, can't remember what it was. Beer, maybe some garlic?" Dean laughed at his lame joke, turning back to baby and rolling his eyes when Cas didn't laugh. "I just finished up on baby, so she should be fine. Get us to Iowa in no time." Wiping his hands on a rag, Dean closed the hood of the Impala, and gave it a pat. "You look ready to go." He commented, glancing at Cas' machete.

"I am. I didn't want you to have to wait for me."

"You nervous? Since you're, you know, human?"

"Thanks for pointing that out Dean. I hadn't noticed." Cas grinned again at Dean. "No, not really. I mean, what's the worse that could happen?"

Dean smiled, too. Cas wasn't _too_ bad at sarcasm. "Don't change, okay? We could do with an optimist." Dean patted Cas on the shoulder, careful not to get oil on his shirt. "But yeah, it shouldn't go too badly."

Their eyes met, emerald on diamond, and Dean left his hand on Cas' shoulder for a second too long. Cas held Dean's stare. The seconds dragged on.

Sam broke the silence, jogging down the steps into the garage. "Hey, Cas. You're up?"

Dean looked away from Cas abruptly and started busying himself in the boot of the Impala. Cas stepped away from the Impala, trying to concentrate on what Sam had said.

"I have been for a while. Dean said you'd gone out on a supply run." He finally answered.

"Yeah, we've been running low on salt and beer. I had some spare time, so I jogged down to the village just down the road. Beer's in the fridge, Dean." What the hell was up with those guys?

"Thanks, Sammy. Wait, you ran all the way? Christ. Okay. Right then, I'm just gonna change my shirt, then we'll go."

·····

Dean arrived a couple of minutes later in a green shirt. Just like his eyes, but darker. Climbing into the Impala, he sighed. "Let's do this, baby."

Cas slid into the back as Sam opened the garage door. Once the Chevy was clear of it, Sam pulled the door shut and swung himself into the passenger seat. Dean reached over his brother to retrieve his AC/DC cassette.

"Seriously?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

"Shut up!" Dean pushed it into the player, and Back In Black roared out of the player. Cas smiled to himself. Being an optimist wasn't bad at all. Someone around here had to do it, right?

·····

The drive took just over 7 hours. They made a couple of stops on the way, so they did pretty well. It was just past midday, maybe 1pm, when they arrived in Osage, Iowa. The first thing they did was pick up a local news paper, to read up on the case again and consolidate the facts. 8 missing, nothing in common except they were all last seen along the W Main Street. Had to be a reason for that, so they'd check out that road. But first, Sam and Dean dressed in their FBI get-ups, and left to gather what information they could from the police station. Just to make sure they hadn't missed anything that the media hadn't been able to gather.

"Cas, wait in the car, okay?" Dean said, throwing the keys to Cas. He caught them deftly.

"Okie dokie." Cas replied. He had heard it on a film earlier that week.

Dean smiled and swivelled to face away from him. Cas' optimism was slowly changing his outlook on life too. Hey, maybe Cas being human wasn't so bad after all. If Cas could get through this hunt without dying or killing someone, they might actually have a chance of making this work.

Cas pulled the door shut and then just sat in the Impala, fiddling with the keys and day dreaming. He'd always liked the Impala. And now that he was human, he'd be spending a lot of time in it. The leather seats were super comfortable, and Cas found himself yawning again and leaning back into the back of the seat as much as he could. He also loved the aesthetic of the car. It was a classic, and Dean hadn't tainted that by trying to modernise it. It looked just as majestic and worked just as well, if not better than it had when in first rolled off the production line in 1967. Closing his hand around the keys, he shoved them into his pocket and leaned forwards over the front seat. The box of cassettes was on the floor, where Sam usually sat. Reaching so far that he almost fell into the front if the Impala, Cas grabbed a random cassette and pushed it into the player. He recognised it; it was the Metallica album Dean had been playing on the way here. Not that he would tell Dean, but he wasn't that much of a fan of Metallica, though he did like AC/DC and Bon Jovi. Sam had promised to show Cas his preferred music in the bunker sometime, since Dean wouldn't let it "taint his baby".

·····

The Winchesters reappeared in what seemed like no time.

"Metallica?" Dean asked, grinning as he slid into the Impala, in unison with Sam. The suspension creaked, a familiar sound that Cas had come to love. Everything about the Impala was homey and welcoming.

"It was the first cassette I could reach." Cas explained, handing the keys back to the older Winchester.

Sam interrupted with what they had learned from the locals. "We're sure now, we just have one vamp. Pretty new, too. Doesn't know how to turn people, he's too new. Draining people to make up for his beginner's. Guy went missing a few days back, then the disappearances started. The police haven't put two and two together yet. Here, this is the guy." Sam passed back a police file and Cas opened opened it, intrigued. The guy looked to be in his mid thirties, with dirty blonde hair and deep brown eyes. His name was James Waterworth. "We have no idea who turned him. If the circumstances are right, we'll have ourselves a little interrogation to find out."

Cas shut the file and passed it back to Sam. "Have we got any leads as to where this guy bases himself?"

"Yup, there's an old factory by the side of the main street and Sugar Creek. The location makes sense. We're gonna head to a motel, get something to eat, and head out later." Sam replied, pushing the file into the glove box.

"Who's up for takeaway?" Dean asked, gunning the engine.

·····

Cas hadn't needed to eat as an angel, either. He hadn't needed to drink, sleep, or even go to the toilet. Ugh. He'd never get used to urinating. All of this was completely new to him. But food was less of a hindrance, he actually quite enjoyed it. He particularly liked peanut butter. They found a motel on the outskirts of Osage, which was conveniently 5 minutes from a diner. They bought a couple of burgers for him and Dean and salad thing for Sam. Of course, they hadn't left without getting some pie. Dean had been glad to learn that Cas shared his affinity for it. Maybe Dean was rubbing off on Cas as much as Cas was him.

After finishing up at the diner, the three of them dropped off the crap they wouldn't need at their motel room. There wasn't much; just the FBI suits and their research. The only reason they had rented the room was to take precaution; if the hunt took longer than expected and they had to stay in the outskirts of Osage overnight, or if they couldn't be bothered to make the drive back to Lebanon once they'd finished with the vamp. They left the motel soon afterwards, and drove down to the location they had pin-pointed the vampire to be, which just happened to be the other side of Osage. The ride was silent. Dean drove, Sam fiddled with his gun (he'd brought it just in case. Just like Cas and his angel blade, Sam and Dean didn't go anywhere without their TAURUS Model 92 9mm standards), and Cas sat in the back, consumed by his thoughts. For once, no music flowed through the body of the Impala. It wasn't that any of them were nervous; at least, Cas didn't think the others were, there was no reason for any of them to be. It was more that they were just preparing themselves mentally. Yeah, it was just one vamp, but the people who disappeared might still be with the vamp. And not in a pleasant state. Some were only teenagers. As a hunter, you could see some pretty disturbing stuff. You couldn't save everyone.

They arrived around 10 minutes later, and parked up at the side of the road, a little way down. There were two factories, parallel to each other and just as large.

"Okay, change of plan. No, we didn't expect there to be two buildings, but we'll just have to split up. Cas, you come with me. You ready?" Dean addressed his brother and pre-angel.

"Yup, let's do this. Keep your phones on you, both of you." Sam replied, climbing out of baby. Dean followed, as did Cas. They all circled to the boot of the Impala and Dean opened it. They all picked up a machete, and Cas and Sam grabbed a torch. Cas pulled the boot shut, and Dean locked up. With a nod from Sam, the three split up, Dean and Cas veering off to the left, Sam to the right.

The factory door swung open, creaking eerily. Grimacing, Dean held his blade by his side and advanced, Cas right on his heels, clicking the torch on and shining it through the doorway. Dust particles soared in front of them, almost shining in the yellow light. It looked just like your average derelict, weird-ass factory. Machines that hadn't been operated in a decade or two, creepy hanging chains from the steel rafters, and a thick layer of undisturbed dust. Wait... Shining the torch towards the floor, Cas made out distinct drag marks, and footprints.

"Dean, check this out." Cas pointed out the prints with the torch beam.

Dean doubled back to get a closer look. "Looks like we have the right building. Give Sam a call."

"Okay." Cas pulled out his phone and called from his emergency call contacts. Sam picked up after a couple of rings.

"Hey Cas. I was just about to call you. I killed the vamp. I'll meet you back at the Impala."

"Sam, we found pretty fresh footsteps in out side, though."

"Might have just been the same guy." Sam replied. Dean looked over, confusion evident on his face despite the darkness.

"Maybe..." Cas was unsure.

"Check it out anyw- oh, shit!" Sam's phone clattered to the concrete floor, and Cas listened in horror as a scuffle took place on the other side of the line. Before Cas could get super worried, Sam picked the phone, breathing heavily. "Definitely check it out, I just came across another vamp. The vamp wasn't draining people, it was turning them. Looks like we have a nest."

·····

Cas hung up on Sam and walked over to where Dean was investigating. After retelling his and Sam's conversation, Dean replied. "Perfect. Your first freaking hunt as a human, and we screw it up. Why didn't we see this coming? "

"Hey, it's okay. It's not like I have no experience at all, I was an angel before."

"I know, but you've never been human. That's got to be a serious adjustment. And that has got to have been the stupidest mistake we have ever made on a hunt." Dean sounded unconvinced.

Cas looked up at the sound of rapid footsteps. "Dean, duck!"

Dean dropped to the floor, and Cas swung the machete with all the power he could muster. The blade went clean through the vamp's neck, taking more strength than Cas had anticipated. The head rolled over to one of the machines, and the body fell to the side of Dean, splashing blood all over his shirt, a dark and obvious stain on his top.

"Heh, good one, Cas." Dean commented as Cas offered him a hand. Pulling him up, Cas smiled nervously at Dean. God, that had been close. Cas' heart was still beating ten to the dozen. He was just glad that Dean was okay.

"Okay, let's concentrate more on killing than talking. We had eight disappearances, including the first guy. We've killed one, Sam killed two. We have five more." Dean reached down for his blade, which he'd left on the floor.

"Yes, that might be a good idea." Cas laughed, again nervously, but more quietly. Turning again, Cas and Dean made their way through the factory. There were a couple more kills, Dean taking both out. Just as they were finishing up and wiping down their blades, Sam rang again. Dean picked up and turned away from Cas, motioning to him to stay alert.

"Hey, Sammy. How's it going?"

"I finished up over here, killed two more."

"We're just finishing up over here. We killed three. We'll meet you by the Impala, we're just checking around the back. There weren't enough vamps to make up for the disappearances. There might be one more, the original guy, unless he moved on. It would make sense, he might have left with the vamp that turned him. I'm not taking any chances, though."

"Yeah, he definitely wasn't over at my side. See you in a bit." Sam hung up.

"Cas, we'll just go check round the back now, fo- Cas?" Dean turned around, pushing his phone back in his pocket. He stopped abruptly. Where the hell was Cas? "Cas? CAS!!"

The torch was discarded behind one of the machines, the machete a few yards to the right, blood still drying. That couldn't be good. _Shit, Cas, where the hell are you?_ Dean bent down to pick up the torch, and as he turned around, his eyes met another pair of eyes. Those cold, dead eyes were the last thing Dean saw as the vampire swung a pipe at him.

·····

Dean awoke to a bucket of ice cold water and he cursed as his body tried to overcome the shock. He quickly realised his hands were bound. Looking over to Cas, who seemed to have gotten the same ice bucket treatment, he saw that he was tied in a similar way to Dean. Both were tied to wooden beams, arms around the splintered wood and tied with something cold and bumpy. Felt like chains. Their legs were bent in front of them and their feet were tied with the same chains used on their wrists, from what Dean gathered. Who used chains and locks anymore? What about rope? It was so much easier to escape from ropes. It looked similar to the chains that had been hanging from the rafters. So the vamp was working with what it had. Cas glanced over to Dean, and in that one glance, he had never seen so much pain, guilt or sadness. Cas blamed himself, in the true Winchester style. This wasn't Cas' fault. As soon as they got out of here, Dean would let him know that. But now wasn't the best time for a chick flick moment; they needed to actually get out of here first. Dean first experimented with how much leeway in movement he had. A bit, but nowhere near as much as he needed to Houdini their asses out of there. Their prospects of getting out of there worsened when Dean realised he didn't have his phone, or gun, or blade. The son of a bitch had been clever enough to take even his lock pick. Looking over to Cas, Dean broke the silence.

"Cas, have you got your mobile?"

Cas opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a deep, gravelly voice.

"No, he doesn't. I took all of your crap. We don't want you two escaping, now, do we?"

A figure, that Dean had overlooked when trying to assess their surroundings, stepped out of the darkness and into the light of a single lamp, which Dean would take a guess at being around halfway between him and Cas. He couldn't see much, but gathered that they were in the factory's basement. The entrance was probably around the back. They did have one trump card that the vamp didn't know about though: Sam. So Dean did the only thing he could think of doing. Stall for time.

"No, well, we wouldn't want to miss out on the party."

"The party is just starting." The guy replied, and started walking over to Cas. Damn it.

"So are you the guy that went missing, before all the others?" Dean really hoped he could stall until Sam realised something was up.

"Yeah, I am. My master, the one who turned me, he said that I would become something better if I joined him. He was right."

"Really? Because from my point of view, you have become much worse." Fingers crossed, fingers crossed.

The vampire hissed, it's fangs sliding down. In the poor light, his face took on a nightmarish transformation.

"Enough stalling. I'm going to drain your friend first and make you watch, and then I will come back for you." The vampire crouched beside Cas and stroked his neck. Cas shuddered, and tried his best to lean away from the monster, but to no avail. "Something tells me you're going to taste... special." He started to lean in.

Thinking quickly, Dean shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Did you hear them scream?"

The vampire twisted round at a superhuman speed, narrowing its eyes at Dean. All or nothing right?

"Your brothers and sisters. They screamed as I killed them, one by one. I made them watch as their brethren writhed on the floor. Dead man's blood really affects you guys, doesn't it?"

The vampire roared, and ran the length of the room. Upon reaching Dean, it slammed its hands into Dean's throat, daring him to continue. His eyes were wild, his breathing heavy and aggressive. From across the room, Cas begged. "Please! Dean, stop!"

Through the vampire's grip, Dean choked out two final sentences. "And you know what I did? I laughed."

With another roar, the vampire drew back and plunged his fangs into Dean's neck. Cas screamed over and over again, his voice going hoarse as Dean went slack.

"DEAN!!!! DEAN, NO!! DEAN!"

Cas pulled against the wooden pillar, splinters of wood breaking off and lodging themselves in Cas' arms. But Cas didn't feel them. He just felt the raw pain of seeing his friend having the life sucked out of him by a vampire. It was his fault, all his fault that this was happening. He couldn't save Dean before, he couldn't save Dean now. He felt like a prisoner to his own body. All because he was a freaking human! None of this would have happened if he was still an angel. No, none of this would have happened if he hadn't have been so stubborn in wanting to become a hunter. And so Cas watched in agony, not 15 meters away from where his friend was slowly dying, but not being able to do a thing about it. For the first time since he had been human, Cas cried. Tears of pain and guilt coursed down his cheeks as he screamed out Dean's name again and again. He screamed until he felt like his voice was going to give out, and then screamed even more. He screamed, even when his throat felt like it had been torn to shreds.

"DEAN!!!!"

·····

Sam had been waiting for over 10 minutes now and there was still no sign of his brother, or Cas. Starting to worry, Sam fished his phone out of his pocket and called Dean's number. No answer. Next, he called Cas. No answer either. That couldn't be good. A knot started to form in Sam's stomach. Maybe they were just busy. After another 5 minutes, Sam tried them both again. Still nothing. Pushing off from the side of the Impala, Sam stood up and jogged over to the building he had last seen Dean and Cas enter. The door was still open, swinging slightly in the breeze. At the doorway, Sam stopped, listening. There was a sound, pretty faint, that had been masked by the wind before. But now Sam could hear it. It was... screaming. No. It was Cas, screaming.

Sam's stomach dropped and for a second, he stood, paralysed with shock. Cas' scream was of pure terror and pain. It was... it was horrible. Snapping back to reality, Sam ran full pelt into the factory, past the torch and machete, to the back. The sound was louder now and Sam felt almost physical pain at hearing his friend scream in such a way. He needed to get there now. As Sam searched for a door, one question nagged at Sam. Cas had been tortured before, and never screamed in such a way. So what had happened down there that was so bad? And... why couldn't he hear Dean?

Sam almost missed the trapdoor, which had been hidden behind some wooden planks. Adrenalin pumping through his veins, Sam pulled it open. Suddenly, the screaming was so much louder, so much more raw. Christ, Sam was afraid of what he would find. He felt sick at what he might see. This was meant to be a simple hunt, a rogue vamp. An easy hunt to wean Cas into hunting. Sam ran down the concrete stairs at full pelt, and maintained that speed down the corridor. The door at the end was open, and Sam shot through it, machete in his hands as he skidded to a stop. The first thing he saw was Cas at the far end of the room, chained to a wooden post. Cas was on his knees, screaming and leaning as far from the pillar as he could. Blood streamed down his forearms, as the tears slid down his face. Sam turned to where Cas was looking, dread in his heart. And that was when he saw it.

It all happened at once. Upon seeing Sam, Cas stopped screaming. The vampire turned, blood round its mouth, and ran at Sam. Fuelled by a fiery rage, Sam swung the machete, and finished it off with a single, clean strike. As the vamp body dropped, it revealed Dean's. He was slumped against the pillar, looking so pale he could be dead. Cas started crying again, whispering under his breath "it's all my fault" again and again and again. Rushing over to a table at the other side of the room, almost completely hidden by the darkness, Sam found a key, which he guessed was for the chains. Running over, he quickly unlocked Cas' wrists, then left the key with him so that he could untie his ankles. Hands shaking, he ran over to his brother, and checked for a pulse. An agonising second passed, in which Sam felt nothing, but then he found it. It was weak, but there, all the same. Cas slid over to Sam and Dean, unlocking Dean's wrists and ankles hurriedly. Right now, Cas looked to be functional, thanks to the adrenalin. The shock would hit him later.

With Dean untied, Sam scooped him up almost like he weighed nothing. "Cas, go get our phones, your angel blade, the guns. Cas? C'mon buddy, I need you." _Dean, hang in there._

Cas responded, picked up their phones, blades, and the keys to the Impala. He ran out ahead of Sam to unlock the car. Sam ran as quickly as he could without jolting his brother too much. Dean's expression was so relaxed, he almost looked dead. You wouldn't think he was breathing if you weren't holding your hand over his face. It was scary, and brought back memories that Sam would rather forget.

They made it to the Impala and Sam slid Dean onto the back seat, with his head resting on Cas' lap. Sam got in the front and gunned the engine. He had never driven so fast before. They couldn't take Dean to a hospital. It was too far away, almost an hour by car. And they'd have questions. The motel was closer and more convenient. Kind of.

"Cas, we have some equipment in the back of the Impala. I have the same blood type as Dean, we're gonna have to do a blood transfusion in the motel. You get the stuff, I'll get Dean inside, okay? Hey, Cas." Sam turned the mirror so that he could see his friend. Cas was staring into the distance. "Cas, I need you to work with me, okay? If we're going to save him, I need you." After a couple of seconds, Cas nodded, a stiff, hardly perceptible movement.

"Okay, here we go." Sam pulled up at the motel, killed the engine, and got out of the car, opening the back door to get Dean. Cas got out as soon as Sam indicated that he had Dean, and rushed to the boot. He had never noticed before, but out of all the things to have, the boys had a blood transfusion kit. He wouldn't have recognised it if Sam hadn't pointed it out. The two of them rushed into the motel room, and Sam laid his older brother on the bed. Cas kept an eye on the hunter while Sam set it up, connecting the clear tubes and the needles. He found a vein in Dean's arm and then his own. Sam kept his fingers crossed that he had set it up right, and sighed in relief as the process started. Moving so that he was in a more comfortable position, Sam turned to face Cas. He was staring into the distance again, not really registering what was going on anymore. The shock had set in. Turning to his brother, Sam studied him. God, he looked so vulnerable. The only time Dean let his guard down was when he was asleep, and he always looked so different. The knot in Sam's stomach slowly began to loosen as colour returned to Dean's cheeks. Thank God. That hunt had been one heck of a train wreck.

"Let's not do that again." Sam said, to no one in particular. Maybe he had been saying it to Dean. It had been a bit too close for Sam's liking. But they still weren't out of the woods, not until Dean woke up. It better be soon, Sam felt like he was seconds from a breakdown.

Cas continued to stare, not at anything, really. He'd stare at Dean, without really seeing him. He'd stare at the wall, but not really see it. Eventually, he settled for picking the splinters out of his arms. Thanks to him, Dean was on that bed, unconscious. Thanks to him, Dean had almost died. This, all of it, was his fault.

_This is all my fault, this is all  my fault, this is  all my fault, this is all..._

·····

Cas woke up disoriented, every sense in his body on high alert. Looking around, he realised he was still in the bunker.

_...my fault._

_Ahh, shit, that had been a realistic_ _dream._ But that was the thing. It hadn't been a dream. Only, what, 3 days ago? All that had happened. It was more of a flash back than a nightmare. And a painful one, at that. Cas felt the side of his face, realising it was wet. Propping himself up on one arm, he reached to his drawers for his watch. The clock face showed 3am. Well, he wasn't going back to sleep now. Might as well make some coffee. He needed the caffeine.

Cas was about to slide from under his covers when he realised something that he hadn't noticed before. There was a presence at the door. He didn't know who or what it was, but Cas couldn't not take precaution. Cas jumped out of bed and had his angel blade pointed at the shadow before it realised what Cas was doing.

"Who, or what, are you?" Cas advanced slightly as the figure put it's hands above it's head.

"Hey, whoa! Cas, it's only me!"

Cas recognised the voice instantly. It was just Sam.

"What are you doing up?" Cas asked, lowering the blade.

Sam stepped into Cas' bedroom, yawning. "Bad dream. Sounds like you did too, you woke me up with your shouting. Was it... Was it the hunt?"

Cas chose to ignore the last part. "I was just going to make some coffee, I won't be able to get back to sleep." Was all he said.

"Mind if I come with? No offense, but last time you were in the kitchen by yourself, it didn't end too well."

"If you want, yes." Cas sighed, and walked past Sam out into the corridor.

"Cas. I know you blame yourself for the hunt, but it wasn't your fault, okay? Dean agrees with me. Look, if we all just sat down and talked about it... Cas, you can't blame yourself for this."

"Yes I can, Sam. Because the vampire was about to drain _me_. Not your brother, but me. Dean started baiting it, that's why it went for Dean. It should have been me, unconscious on that bed in Osage. Not your brother. Dean never deserved that."

Sam considered the facts for a moment. "Well, neither did you. Cas, the sooner you forgive yourself, the sooner we can move on from this. Please, Cas. Dean doesn't blame you, neither do I. The only person that needs to forgive is you."

Cas walked off down the corridor, leaving Sam alone by his bedroom door. He couldn't forgive himself. _It was all his fault._


	6. Finally.

*6 days later*

The next few days had been quiet. The three of them had done nothing except watch the rest of Game Of Thrones, go through some of the archives at the bunker, and search for possible hunts. But everywhere seemed to be quiet. For now. Sam was still suspicious of both their previous hunts and was convinced they were linked, but couldn't bring this up with his brother or Cas. None of them had even mentioned it since the day Sam had first heard Cas have a nightmare. Hell, they all had them now. Even Sam did. Sam himself was currently on his laptop, searching for more cases like the ones they had just finished up with. The first one was weird because the newly-turned vampire was turning others. It was unusual for two reasons; firstly, when a vampire first turned, all it would feel is bloodlust. It needed to kill. That's what made them so dangerous. Secondly, if the vampire was strong enough to ignore the bloodlust, how the hell would it know how to turn people? Unless its master had shown it how. The second hunt they'd been on six days ago, in Missouri, was also a newly turned vampire, but the Winchester brothers had arrived before it started killing. But what if it wouldn't have drained people? What if it would have turned them? Maybe this "master" was the master of both vampires. And what if there were more? Either way, he was probably covering his tracks better now that he knew they were onto him. But what exactly was he planning?

After hours of searching, Sam finally found a possible case. There wasn't much to go on, just a disappearance on the outskirts of town. Could be nothing, but it could be something. And it was right here in Kansas, not too far from Lebanon. Maybe they should try Cas on another hunt. He'd have to ask Dean. Sam stretched his arms behind his head, letting out an inevitable yawn. He'd been sat at the library desk for almost 6 hours, from 4am this morning. These damn nightmares weren't easing off; that hunt had shaken everyone. Sam shut his laptop down and drifted over to the kitchen for coffee. Dean and Cas were already in there, and had beaten him to the coffee. Setting it up for another mug, Sam turned around and decided to breach the subject of a hunt.

"I think I found us a hunt." Sam broke the silence, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"Finally, something to do! Whereabouts?" Dean put his mug down on the side and turned to his brother, curiosity piqued.

"It's just here, in Kansas, a couple of towns over. It's not a definite hunt, but it sounds kinda similar to the hunt in Missouri." Sam didn't dare mention the other hunt.

"So you still think Missouri and- Iowa are connected?" Dean didn't want to upset Cas, who had now also put down his coffee, and was listening intently.

"Yeah. And there's a possibility this is also connected. I was thinking... Maybe this would be a good hunt for Cas."

Dean nodded. He couldn't see a problem with that. I mean, that hunt wasn't even Cas' fault, so they couldn't stop him from hunting. "Cas, you up for that?"

"It depends. Are you, Dean?"

"Look, Cas, I know you blame yourself, but it wasn't-"

"I don't need to hear this from you too! I know it was my fault. You almost died because I didn't keep an eye out for vampires and got jumped by one. I dropped my guard when I shouldn't have. So yes, it was my fault, not yours, not Sam's, not anyone else's. This one is on me."

"Cas, it was my choice to do what I did, not yours. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't anyone's, it was just a crappy hunt, okay?"

Cas stayed silent for a moment, and finally answered, "I'll come, but if it goes sideways, even half an inch sideways, we're leaving. Another hunter can take care of it."

"It's a deal." Sam replied.

·····

They got together everything they might need, which was a lot. There might not be a hunt in Mankato, but if there was, it wasn't a given that it would be a vampire. It was best to take precaution. The three hunters were out of Lebanon by 11am, this time with Cas riding shotgun. Sam had offered to let Cas sit in the front, kind of like a we trust you, buddy gesture. Cas couldn't not be nervous this time. Poor guy. Sam turned to face out of the window, watching the blur of green shoot by. American scenery lost its charm when you were road tripping nearly every week. Cas was also staring out of the window. It must be different for him, looking through human eyes and seeing things the way humans do. It could go both ways; Cas could find it beautiful, or not as awesome as how angels saw things. Sam wasn't sure which way it would go.

It was a short drive, and they arrived in Mankato before midday. Before anything else, the three of them searched for a motel. They found one on the border of Mankato, Crest Vue, and parked up at the front.

"Not too shabby." Dean observed.

"It'll do." Sam agreed, climbing out of the Impala. The suspension creaked. It was such a homely and comforting sound for Sam. It was the only stable home he'd ever known.  
Dean followed his brother into the motel, Cas staying behind in Baby. Dean had left the keys with him, in case he decided to join them.

The motel was a hunter' s lodge of sorts, but not their sort of hunter. Deer hunters, pheasant hunters, whatever people hunted these days. Dean had been right, it wasn't too shabby at all. The motel had a clean, organised look, but not so clean that it felt like a sterile hospital, and was actually pretty welcoming. Compared to their normal motels, this one was a freaking palace.

Dean seemed to be thinking along the same lines as his brother. "Let's enjoy this while we can, but I'm guessing we can't get used to this."

"Probably not."

Sam turned around at the sound of the door opening, and Cas entered. He threw the keys to Dean, who caught them with a clink and slid them into his jeans pocket. Cas joined them at the desk, and the three hunters waited in silence. They were served in no time, and decided on a three bed room with a toilet and shower with a decent water pressure. Dean and Cas were especially happy to hear that. The room itself, in Dean's words, wasn't too shabby. The room wasn't painted an obnoxious colour for once, instead was a deep turquoise. The bedding complimented the colour scheme, with a blue green and white kaleidoscope themed quilt and pillows. And there were no creepy motel stains, which was a relief.

"This really isn't too bad." Dean smiled. "I don't care if we finish with this hunt with time to drive back, we're staying the night."

"Agreed. I need to be out of the bunker." Sam seconded.

"I agree with you both. Not that I hate the bunker, but it would be nice for a change of scenery."

"Okay, I'm glad we sorted that. Now, Sam, where are the suits?" Dean asked.

"Boot of the Impala. I'll go get them." Sam offered. Dean threw him the keys with a "I'll kill you if you do something to baby" look, and Sam left the room.

At first, Dean and Cas said nothing, just stood around awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. Finally, Cas spoke up. "Dean, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising? Cas, you haven't done anything!"

"You know why I'm apologising."

"That was, what, over a week ago? I've already told you, it's not your freaking fault!" Dean stepped towards Cas, holding him by the shoulders. "It was never your fault."

"But it was, and you know it was! If I hadn't even gone on that hunt, nothing bad wouldn't have happened, you would have cleaned it up."

"But that's not true! You took a vampire that I didn't even see coming!"

"But then you got taken down by one later on anyway! Because of me!"

"Cas, for God's sa-"

Cas interrupted Dean mid sentence. He didn't know why he did it, it was just an impulse. Like he couldn't control his actions. Without thinking, Cas leaned forwards abruptly, and his lips hit Dean's.

·····

Sam jogged back from the Impala with the three suits in his arms. It had been a last minute choice of his and Dean's. Getting Cas an FBI suit would make him feel more at home. It had been Dean's idea, actually. He got to their door, and pushed it open. He automatically detected the atmosphere. Something had happened. Dean was grinning and sat on his bed. Cas had flushed a deep red and was stood at the other side of the room. He hadn't seen Cas look that happy since the vampire. Well, whatever happened, he didn't care, so long as those two were okay. Dean looked up as Sam appeared, and he threw Dean his suit.

"Hey, Cas. You want to come with us to the police station?"

"Are you sure?" Cas looked genuinely happy.

"That's why we got you a suit. You'll look the part."

"Okay."

Sam passed the pre-angel his suit. "We'll set off in ten."


	7. Crazy Psycho Bitch!

Both Cas and Dean were grinning maniacally on the way to the station. What the hell had happened? It was scary how they had gone from being so down to so high. Wait, that was a possibility. Were they high? Or drunk, possibly? But there was no way they could have gotten drunk in that short a time, and then hide the evidence. And they weren't the type of people to take drugs, they weren't that stupid. So what the hell was it? Maybe he was in an alternative universe. He suggested it to himself as a joke, but realised that in their world, this wasn't just a possibility, but likely. He would ask them once they finished up with this hunt. _But seriously guys, what the hell?_  


·····

"I'm Agent Carter, these are my partners, Agents Davenport and Corderelli." Sam took the lead flashing his badge at the officer. Dean and Cas followed his lead.

"Agents, it's nice to see the Feds around here, but can I ask why you're here? Nothing of Federal interest has happened."

"We're here to investigate the disappearance of Luke Somerhill, this is where he disappeared, am I correct?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have thought you guys took care of this sort of thing. Bigger fish to fry, y'know?"

"We just need to make ends meet." Cas followed Sam's lead.

"Fair enough. Well, if you'll follow me, I'll show you all we know."

The officer showed them to a file cabinet, and after rifling through a draw full, found the file on Luke.

"There really isn't much to go on. He disappeared two days ago, we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. He had no previous criminal record, nothing. Just a nice kid, you know? He's only 19, but we just can't find him. That file contains everything we know, have a look through it." He passed the file to Dean, AGENT CORDERELLI, and he flicked through it, trying to find any evidence of a vamp attack.

Cas piped up. "Were there any witnesses to his disappearance? Who saw him last?"

Sam internally sighed. **_Witnesses?_** _To a_   ** _disappearance?_** _It's generally called disappearing because no one sees it happen_   _and no one has any idea what happened._

However, to Sam's surprise, the officer answered without missing a beat. "Well, there was one _witness_ , if that's what you could call him. He's not exactly reliable and he was probably high when he SAW it. Either that, or he was drunk. I mean, he swears up and down that the guy that abducted him was a vampire. I don't know. You can still go see him if you want. His name's Danny Oketree. You'll probably find him in some dark back street, drunk off his face."

"Thanks for the help, Officer. Can we keep a hold on the file for now?" Dean asked, gesturing to the file he still had in his hands.

"Sure, knock yourselves out. And good luck. Luke's a good kid."

"We'll do our best to bring him back, Officer." Sam answered.

They walked out of the station, and they all leant against the Impala. "So what are we thinking of this witness?" Dean asked.

"We're definitely checking him out. Maybe if we ask around the locals, see if we can find anything out from them?" Cas put forward his suggestion.

"That sounds like a good idea. Split up, and meet up at the diner in an hour, get something to eat?" Sam asked.

"Awesome. See you guys there."

·····

Nothing. None of the locals knew anything important. And Sam hadn't been able to find Danny. He'd checked out a few dodgy places, but Danny wasn't there, and no one had seen him. Sam just hoped the others had found something.

Sam got back to the diner early, at around 1pm. He sat at a table by the window, and pulled out his phone. Perfect; they had free WiFi. He searched Danny up on any social media he could think of. Nothing, again. He turned his phone off as footsteps approached his table. Dean sat down opposite Sam, sighing.

"You get anything on Danny?" Sam asked.

"Nothing but a big heap of jack squat. You?

"Nothing. I tried his usual haunts; a couple of bars and a club, but nothing. Apparently he hasn't been near them since Luke's disappearance. He's probably hiding to avoid the town's people. They all think he's crazy."

The two of them lapsed into silence. Suddenly, Dean interrupted. "Where's Cas?"

"I don't know. You tried ringing him?"

"No." Dean fished his phone from his Fed trousers and called Cas' contact. Thankfully, Cas picked up.

"Before you ask, I'm on my way now. You guys find anything?"

"Nope. Please tell me you got something." Dean replied.

"Well, I won't be letting you down."

They discussed Cas' findings over burgers at the diner. Their badges were piled up, one on top of another, at the edge of the table. According to Cas, who had picked up on a rumour, Danny had hitched a ride to the next town over and was currently crashing in a cheap motel. The type with creepy stains and even creepier owners. They agreed that Dean should drive over, while Sam and Cas stayed back at the motel, in case they got an update on Luke from the police, or if there was some vampire action. Dean grabbed a badge, they said their goodbyes, and then Dean drove off in the direction of Courtland, while Sam and Cas walked back to the motel after picking up the remaining badges and paying for the bill.

·····

Dean was still trying to get over what had happened earlier. He felt like if he jumped, he'd start flying. He hadn't felt this happy since... since when? Sure, it had taken him by surprise. It was the last thing he had expected. But he was glad it had happened. He'd been ignoring his feelings for Cas for a while, because he hadn't realised Cas felt the same. But how the hell could Cas have known about Dean's feelings for him? And how would he tell Sam that Cas and he were, you know. After the kiss, Dean had asked Cas out on a... date? It was weird, calling it that. Dean was still trying to register that any of that had even happened. Sliding in a random cassette, Dean sang along to Wanted: Dead or Alive at the top of his voice. Bon Jovi rocked, and this was certainly the occasion.

"I'M A COWBOY, ON A STEEL HORSE I RIDE!  
I'M WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE!!!"

Half an album later, Dean pulled up outside a motel, just on the outskirts of Courtland. This motel was probably the one Danny was staying at. If it lived up to its description, the inside wouldn't be any better than the outside. The building looked as if it was falling apart. A ground floor window was smashed, and had been covered up with some cardboard. The roof was missing a number of tiles, and the bricks, once a majestic red, were now black with... Dean didn't want to know what that black stuff was. The whole building looked like it was about to fall down. Dean didn't fancy going in, but hey. Climbing out of his Baby, he swung the door shut and locked up. He crossed the road at a reasonable pace to the opposite sidewalk, stopping only to glance in disgust at the sign that was meant to identify the building as a motel, which had been a wooden sign with beautifully hand painted lettering. It was now peeling and mouldy, and even from this close, Dean couldn't read it. And he didn't plan on getting any closer. He continued to the door, and after a moment's hesitation, pushed it open. At least the door wasn't as grimy as the rest of the building. Unfortunately, the motel did live up to its description. Dean didn't want to know what any of the creepy-ass stains were, and didn't plan on staying long enough to find out. Pulling himself together, he made his way carefully to the front desk, stepping around any dark blotches on the old, malting carpet.

"Hello? Anybody home?" Dean ventured, straining his eyes. What was wrong with a little lighting?

"I doubt you want a room, you can afford better accommodation, from the looks of you. So, what do you want from us?"

A woman stepped into the light, what little light there was, and gave Dean the coldest stare he had seen on a girl's face. And she was just a girl, no older than 18, he would guess. What the hell was she doing here?

Dean voiced his thoughts, and all she said was, "it's a family business."

"Well, miss, my name is Agent Corderelli, FBI, and I'd like to talk to one of your guests, a Mr Danny Oketree?" Dean flashed his badge at the girl.

"He's one of our guests, yeah. What do you want with him?"

"I'm afraid that's federal business. If you'd just point me to his room-"

"And I'm afraid that my guests' privacy rights are my business. So let's start this again. You're not FBI, so who are you, and what do you want with Danny?" She cocked her hip, crossing her arms.

"I suggest you tell me where Mr Oketree is, or I will have to take you in for obstructing a federal investigation."

"Screw the federal investigation and drop the act, you dick. You're not a Fed, because your badge is a fake. She leaned forwards, snatching the badge out of his pocket before he could even react. "Here, you see. For starters, the picture isn't even of you. He looks nothing like you! He's probably you're boyfriend." Dean started to protest, but she held up a hand, and continued. "Secondly, you introduced yourself as Agent Corderelli, which isn't the name on the badge either. So start talking, or I shoot." Slamming his badge down on the desk so hard the bell rung, she revealed a hand gun from her jeans pocket, and cocked it.

 _Shit, I picked up the wrong badge!_  He raised his hands above his head. "Okay, my name is Dean Winchester, and I am very sorry for what I am about to do."

This time, he gave her no time to react, quickly taking the gun off of her and disabled it. Next, he moved towards her, and knocked her out as quickly and painlessly as he could. Laying her down behind the desk, he pulled the log book out of the draws. Danny, Danny, Danny, Danny... There! Room 26. He sprinted up the stairs, two at a time. He was on a time limit now. If only he'd picked up the right badge! If luck was on his side, Danny would be too hammered to notice. Upon reaching the door, Dean organised himself, got his breath back, and finally knocked.

"Danny? Are you in there?"

Dean heard movement behind the door, and a guy that looked a lot like Cas opened it.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Danny asked, slurring.

It was pretty evident he was drunk. And his similarity to Cas in appearance was staggering. Dark hair, striking blue eyes, dark stubble and a defined jaw line. Under different circumstances, he'd be handsome. As it was, his hair was dishevelled and teeth were yellowing, his hair was sparse and he looked the perfect picture of... horribly unhealthy. He and this motel went hand in hand.

"I'm Agent C- Davenport, and I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions about Luke Somerhill's disappearance."

Danny attempted to shut the door on Dean, but Dean swung a foot in between the door and the doorway.

"Fine, come in. But you'll just laugh at me, like the rest."

"Trust me, I'm not like the rest."

Dean followed Danny into his pig sty of a room, kicking the door shut behind him. The smell hit him almost instantly, and he was hardly managing to keep his gag reflex under control.

"Be quick about it, I haven't got much time to waste. I'm a very busy guy, you know."

SURE. "So, can you just tell me what you saw?" The sooner Dean got out of here, the sooner he could get a shower. And possibly throw up.

"I was walking back from the bar, it was like, gone midnight, and I happen to walk down this back street. There's two guys, this Luke guy, and then another guy. I've no idea who he was. Anyhow, this other guy had Luke pushed up against a wall. I hid round the corner, bug I wanted to see what would happen next. Anyway, this other guy, he suddenly grew fangs. Not like these teenage romance fangs, but like, a full mouth of fangs. They were so freaking long and sharp! It was like a mouth of shark teeth! But he doesn't bite Luke, no, he cuts himself and then bled into Luke's mouth! I mean, that's what it looked like. And then I ran. That guy was a freaking psycho, I don't want to cross him! That's all I know."

Okay, so Danny might have been drunk, but he wasn't lying. This was definitely a vamp. "Okay, I have one more question. Can you describe this guy? The psycho one."

"I couldn't really see him properly, but he had light hair, possibly blonde. He was pretty tall, maybe slightly taller than you, and he looked pretty well built. Oh, and he was wearing a dark trenchcoat. Black, I think. That's all I know. Are we done here?"

"I believe we are. Thank you for your time."

"Then get the hell out of my room."

Dean left with more knowledge than before, but also really nauseated. He hoped it was freaking worth it. Jogging down the stairs, he ran to the doorway leading to the main hall, and his face met a fist.

"Ahhh, shit!" Dean looked up, holding a hand to his now bleeding nose. "Bitch!" The girl was stood the aiming her gun at Dean.

"I've called the cops. You have three seconds to get off of my property, before I shoot you full of lead. Three, two, one."

Dean was up and running before she reached one, and he slid into the Impala as gun shots starting ringing out. At least she was a crap shot. Skidding in a U turn, Dean drove off as fast as he could. "Crazy psycho bitch." Dean muttered to himself as he tried to stop his nosebleed and drive at the same time.

·····

The walk back to the motel didn't take Sam and Cas long. For the most part, it was silent. Mostly because Cas was still replaying the moment when he kissed Dean over and over in his head. He'd had no idea what he'd done, and had tried pulling back when he realised Dean wasn't responding. But as he moved to pull back, Dean had suddenly melted into him, and it had perfect. Cas was so glad he had done it, even if it had been spontaneous. He'd had no idea that Dean felt the same way; how could he? But now they both knew, and that was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't look at, or even think about Dean, without going red. They had set up to go on a little "date" once they got back in Lebanon. The only thing on Cas' mind now was how the hell they would tell Sam. Sam wouldn't need to know JUST yet, would he? Cas still didn't know where it would lead, anyway. He knew where he hoped it would lead, though.

Soon enough, they arrived back at the motel. Sam hooked the keys out of his blazer pocket, and unlocked the door. Cas followed him into their room and laid on his bed, stretching.

"Cas, you look tired." Sam said, pulling his laptop out of their bag and turning it on. He moved over to their mini table and started hacking the local police data base.

"Not really, I'm just... tired?" Cas laughed under his breath. "I haven't been getting much sleep."

"I don't blame you." There; he'd hacked it. That had to be a new record. Nope, nothing on Luke, and nothing vampy. Next, he tried to hack their scanner. It was easier to get information quickly. "Speaking of which, I noticed you were pretty down, but at the motel, when I got back with the suits, you suddenly looked a lot happier. What happened while I was gone?" Sam turned in his chair to face Cas.

Damn it. He couldn't tell Sam, not without Dean there, and okay with it. He didn't know where Dean stood when it came to telling Sam. And Cas was crap at lying, Sam would get it out of him eventually. So he did the next best thing, and tried to feign being asleep. Apparently, it worked, because Sam laughed quietly, and slid on the chair back to the laptop. Cas listened to the clicking of his laptop keys, and eventually fell asleep to the rhythmic tapping.

Cas woke an hour later to the door opening. Sitting up groggily, Cas rubbed his eyes, and looked up in time to see Dean close the door behind him.

"Dean, what's with the blood?" Sam looked up, confused as he saw the blood around Dean's nose.

"Nothing. I was attacked by this crazy girl."

"Sounds about right." Cas chipped in from his bed.

Dean looked over to Cas, half smiling. "Cas... why are you in my bed?"

Cas gasped as he realised he had been curled up in Dean's sheets. Scrambling to get out as quickly as he could, he got tangled in the quilt and ended up flat on the floor. "Ouch. Sorry!"

Sam and Dean laughed, but in the end, it was Dean who moved over to Cas and picked him up off of the floor.

"I'm so sorry! I thought it was my bed, I wasn't thinking straight!" Cas stuttered as he tried to throw Dean's covers back on the bed. Dean grinned. God, he would kiss Cas there and then if Sam wasn't there, but he wasn't sure if they should tell Sam yet. After all, Dean had no idea where this would lead. But he knew where he wanted it to.

With the sheets successfully on the bed, Dean disappeared into the toilet to clean up the blood. Th  bleeding had stopped a while ago, but he had no intention on taking a stop during the journey. The girl probably had called the cops, and for all he knew, they could have been on his trail. In their line of work, Dean could afford to be paranoid.

"Did anything happen while I was gone?" Dean shouted from the bathroom.

"Nope. Cas fell asleep, and I hacked the police server. Nothing, by the way. We'll just have to wait. Did you find Danny?" Sam called back.

"Yup. Luke's a vamp, Danny isn't, and I got a decent description of this Master douche. Now we just need to track down Luke, interrogate him, then take out the head guy. Done."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Thank you, brother." Sarcasm was Dean's forte.

"Well, it looks like we have a lot on time on our hands. How do you propose we spend it?" Sam asked, swivelling in his chair again.

"No idea." Dean replied. They'd think of something.


	8. There's A Time And A Place, And This Is Neither.

It wasn't long before Dean started complaining about the lack of beer, so Sam eventually caved and agreed to walk down to the store and get a four-pack. First, he took off his suit and donned the familiar plaid. Much better. He was surprised Dean was still in his, he hated the suits.

"A six-pack if you can!"

"Dean, I am not having you drunk for a hunt!"

"Don't be a party pooper!"

"Four or nothing!"

"Six!"

"Dean...."

"Fine! But you owe me once we're back in Lebanon!"

"Fine!" Sam shut the door. It was only 3pm. God, this day was dragging on.

As soon as the door shut, Dean turned to face Cas, a smile in his eyes. "I have not been able to stop thinking about you since you kissed me."

Cas blushed. "I couldn't stop thinking about you either."

"We've probably only got 20 minutes tops. Just me and you."

"I have a good idea on how we could spend it..."

"Well, so do I." Dean smiled mischievously.

·····

Sam jogged to the shop. He liked to get a bit of exercise in where he could, and it was the perfect afternoon for it. There wasn't much of a selection of alcohol, so it looked like Dean would get his way on the six-pack. Sam wouldn't let Dean have more than one, they could save the rest for when they got back to Lebanon. He payed up and started the walk back. He still didn't know what had lifted his two friends' spirits so high. He would definitely ask as soon as he got back, he was really curious. It was obvious that Cas had been pretending to sleep before, at least at first, to avoid answering Sam's question. Maybe they'd tell him in their own time. Maybe the reasons they were so happy weren't related at all. Maybe it was just Sam, putting jigsaw pieces together that wouldn't fit.

It only took him a fifteen minute round trip before he got back to their room again. He pushed the door open and peeked his head round the door. He _did not_ expect what he saw. Oh. _Oh_. It all made sense. Kinda. Not wanting to interrupt his brother's, er, making out session, Sam shut the door just as quietly and, leaving the beer outside the door, decided to take a walk. Maybe they'd be done in 10 minutes or so. Unless they took it further. They'd had still had their clothes on when he'd arrived. Thank God. At least they'd finally gotten together, after years of eye-screwing each other.

The neighbourhood really wasn't too bad. Not too quiet that it roused Sam's suspicions, not too busy that it was stifling. It was well looked after: There wasn't much litter compared to places the three of them had visited before. Everyone seemed to be pretty nice and welcoming, and although it might not be the most beautiful setting, it had a certain undeniable charm. Sam walked around the block a couple of times before Dean called him.

"Sammy, where are you? I thought you'd be back by now." Dean sounded breathless. _Nice one, big brother._

"Yeah, sorry, I took a scenic detour. I'll be two minutes." _Please don't start something again, Dean,_ _I don't want to walk in on you._

"Okay, see you back here." Dean hung up.

Sam walked back to their room and picked up the beer before entering the room. Extremely cautiously. Luckily, Dean and Cas weren't doing the dirty, instead were sat by the laptop, checking for updates. Had Sam not seen them at it only ten minutes ago, he wouldn't have suspected a thing. Kinda like he hadn't suspected anything much when he'd gone to the car for the suits. He was starting to doubt himself even now - the bed they'd been sat/laid on was creaseless and perfectly made. Should he bring it up, or wait for them to say something?

"Any action?" Sam eventually asked after setting the beers down in front of Dean.

"Six-pack." Dean grinned at his younger brother. "I knew you'd come around and see it my way. And, no, um, nothing." _None that you know about_. Dean added mentally.

"It was all they had. And you're not drinking it all, we'll save some for when we're back in Lebanon."

"Yes, mom." Dean grabbed a beer from the pack. "They're warm... I hope your scenic route was worth it." Dean didn't mind, really. It had given Cas and him an extra 10 minutes.

"I'm sorry that I don't carry a freaking portable fridge."

"I accept your apology."

Sam gave Dean a disdainful look, then reached for his own bottle. Cas grabbed one at the same time. The three of them sat in their chairs and talked as the time passed.

·····

It was 7pm and semi-dark before anything happened. Despite what Sam had said, Dean was on his second beer by the time the police scanner buzzed to life. Sam and Cas had been pacing themselves throughout the afternoon, but it became pretty obvious that Cas wasn't a lightweight, and could have had a lot more. All of them had gotten rid of the FBI suits, and were now wearing their usual plaid. Even Cas had some now, as Dean had given him an extra couple of shirts. Apparently, there had been a sighting of Luke, although the police were debating as to whether they should follow it up or not, since the witness had been drunk off of their head, like Danny. Sam called in, impersonating an officer, and confirmed that the witness had been pulling a sick prank. With the police out of the picture, the boys got ready for a hunt. This time they had dead man's blood on them, to help with the little interrogation they would have, as well as their machetes. This shouldn't take long at all.

They filed out of their room in silence and slid into the Impala. The engine rumbled to life, and they drove down to the bar where Luke had been seen. Dean and Cas were still buzzing, and now Sam knew exactly why. How long had it been going on without Sam knowing? Before that first hunt? After? So long as they were happy, Sam didn't care who his brother screwed. And it was nice that it was, they both deserved to be happy. If only they'd gotten together earlier. If only Dean had realised he was in love with Cas the same time Sam had realised, which had been at least a couple of years back. 3, maybe even 4?

The place Luke had been apparently sighted at was a back street bar, on the outskirts of town. Next door to the bar, there was a nice abandoned building of the same build as the bar. Three guesses as to where Luke was probably hanging.

Dean killed the engine across the street from the building. "This time, no splitting up."

"Agreed." Cas seconded.

"Agreed." Sam nodded. "Let's get this over and done with, then."

Sam climbed out of the car, followed by his brother and Cas. Could they be any more obvious? They were holding hands behind their backs, thinking Sam wouldn't notice. _I won't say anything yet,_ _but seriously guys. What do you think I'll do?_

The building might have been a house in its grander years, but now it was but a shadow of that. Dean thought it looked a lot like the motel he'd visited in Mankato. It had the same creepy black mould too. Nice. Making sure no one was around them, Sam pushed the door open with his sleeve and the three hunters creeped in silently. Cas clicked his torch on, and Sam imitated his action. The building was just as grimy on the inside, but the thick, dark dust wasn't undisturbed. Footsteps leading through the hallway, to a back room. Gesturing, Dean led them into what looked like the kitchen. Right at the back, there was a dark shape. It looked a lot like a human silhouette. Dean counted down from three, and they all ran forwards to the dark lump on one, shining their torches and wielding their machetes. Tension turned to shock as they realised it wasn't the vamp, but a young girl. Recently drained, by the looks of things. Poor girl. Peering closer, Dean shone the torch on her face. _Shit!_ _She's the girl from Courtland!_

Dean spoke up. "It's the girl from Courtland, the one I told you about."

"The girl that almost knocked you out?" Sam answered, whispering.

"Yeah."

"Oh God."

The vampires were taking people from surrounding towns to cover their tracks. Sneaky bastards. Sam reached down to the girl's neck to feel for a pulse. "Dean, there's a pulse! Faint, but it's there. She's still alive."

What could they do? They had to call an ambulance, but they wouldn't be able to interrogate and kill the vamp if the authorities were there, getting in the way. They could grab the vamp, drive back to Lebanon and get answers in the bunker, but would they get to the vamp in time? Or one of them could drive her into town and get her to hospital from there. But moving her could kill her... There was really only one option.

"Okay, okay, okay. Sam, call an ambulance, stay with the girl. You know basic first aid, right? In case something happens."

Sam nodded. "Are you sure you and Cas are okay going after the vamp?"

It was obvious what Sam was implying. "We'll be fine. Gotta get back on the horse at some point, right?"

"I guess." Sam conceded, then pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Cas, you're okay with this, right?"

"Yeah. Like you said about the horse... You know."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

There were no bodies or anything else creepy on that floor. It only took a couple of minutes between them to scout it. Now to make a choice. They only had time to check out the top floor, or basement.

"Basement." Cas decided before Dean even voiced his thoughts. Like Dean, Cas had worked out their problem mentally, realising it was one or the other. And like a capable hunter, he'd made the essential decision. God, he was so proud of his boyfriend sometimes. Wait, were they boyfriends? Or was Dean thinking too far ahead? Maybe they should discuss it tonight. _Dean, get your freaking head in the game!_

Dean led the way down the steps carefully. Each step was wooden and corroded, and could easily break, giving away their element of surprise and probably injuring whoever fell. Fortunately, the steps proved to be stronger than they looked, and the two of them survived the journey. There were two doors branching off at either side.

"I know I said we shouldn't split up, but-" Dean whispered.

Cas cut in before Dean could finish. "Dean, for shit's sake, you'll be fine doing this one thing by yourself. You don't need me to guide you through the whole freaking hunt, you're a grown man!" Cas returned, just as quietly. Mentally, his fingers were crossed. He knew people replied like this a lot in movies and TV shows, and it seemed to go well.

"Oh, shit, Cas. Can I marry you?" Dean liked this new Cas. Not that he didn't like the old one.

"Don't you think it's a bit early for that? We've been dating for a day." Maybe it went a bit too well.

"Not even that. But there's no time like the present." Dean winked.

Cas leaned in and gave Dean a quick kiss. "That's all you get for your troubles."

Dean pulled Cas back in for a longer kiss, and Cas melted into Dean. Hating to break it off, Cas pushed Dean away gently. "Vampire."

Dean snapped back to reality. "Oh. Yeah."

"If you come out of that room alive, you get the rest tonight."

"Sounds fair. See ya." Dean turned around, and pushed his door open, just as Cas did.


	9. Easy As Pie.

Dean looked over his shoulder at Cas one last time, before turning and walking into the room. By the looks of it, he'd pulled the short straw; his room had to take up at least three quarters of the whole basement, unless Cas' extended further than Dean's. Shutting the door behind him, Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his torch app. They seriously needed another torch now that Cas had joined Hunters Incorporated. They'd get round to it after finishing this hunt. Speaking of which, they didn't have long. An ambulance took 10 minutes on average. Cas and Dean had spent around 3 upstairs in total, and another minute making out in the corridor. So they had 6 minutes or so to find the vamp, then get the hell out of there. Easy as pie.

 

The torch on his phone cast a dim, white light on his surroundings, creating more shadows than light, if anything. The basement was even creepier: Dean hadn't thought it could get much worse. Opaque plastic sheets were suspended from the concrete ceiling, which was quite low compared to the ground floor ceiling. Rickety shelves were hanging off of the concrete walls, jars of weird liquids trying not to slide off. Dean didn't want to know what was in them. Many shelves had already fallen away from the wall, making others crash to the floor in the process and their contents too, creating a gooey, gross mess. Some, however, were still hanging on for dear life, despite the rotting wood and the weak screws. Moving away from the shelves, Dean turned his attention to what looked like furniture, scattered throughout the room and covered in more of the plastic sheets. Cautiously, Dean moved towards one of the covered objects. This one looked like a desk, but he couldn't be sure. Keeping his fingers crossed that nothing would jump out at him, Dean hesitantly took a corner of the plastic between his finger and thumb. Counting to three mentally, he pulled the plastic up in one flourish.

 

As he'd suspected, it was just a desk. Placing his machete and the dead man's blood on the desk top, Dean began to rifle through the draws. There was nothing useful, just bits of old newspapers and book pages. Curious, Dean read a couple of the articles. 

 

Apparently, this house had been the home of a family of five back in the 50's. The father worked as a businessman, but when the Vietnam war had rolled around, he'd been inevitably drafted. He'd left his wife and three daughters for Vietnam in '69, and returned in January 1971 a different man. Went crazy because there was no support for people with PTSD back then. So crazy that he couldn't determine who his family was and who the enemy was. It got to a point where one night, he killed all of his family, thinking they were VietCong soldiers. He was thrown into an asylum when the bodies were found. No one had inhabited the building since, either out of respect for the murdered family, or out of fear that it might be haunted. Hunters had probably cleared it up a while back if it had been haunted. 

 

Dean found another article and skimmed through it.

 

**The Mankato Mail, Saturday 17th October, 1990.**

 

**Brothers arrested after found dishonoring the lives of a family brutally murdered.**

 

**Two men, identified as Thomas and Finnan O'Brien, were found in 167 Green Boulevard, disrespecting the memories of the family that lived there from 1950-1971. The brothers claimed to have been cleansing the house, going on to explain that it was haunted. They were found yesterday night, throwing salt around the house and making symbols on the floor. When asked to defend themselves, they told us that the salt was pure, so would dispel evil spirits and demons. If this wasn't enough, we have reports that at one point, the brothers might have been speaking in tongues, or Latin. The brothers had no comment upon hearing this.**

 

**The house has been abandoned since the horrible tragedy took place on 4th June, 1971, when David Valentine murdered his wife and three daughters in their own home. Valentine had previously served 2 years in Vietnam, and returned to his family in January of the aforementioned year. Unfortunately, he went slowly crazy, as he never quite adjusted to normal life again. He left a part of himself, the good part, back in Vietnam. Only five months after his celebrated return, Valentine butchered his family while they were eating. The bodies were found the next day, in the dining room, with Valentine himself sat at the head of the table, covered in their blood. He was thrown into an asylum, where he committed suicide a year later. No one has moved into the house since, out of respect for the deceased. Unfortunately, this was disrupted by brothers Thomas and Finnan. Now, only one question remains. What should we do with these men?**

 

 _Oh shit, poor guys._ Dean hoped to God that the hunters had escaped, and that they had laid the spirits to rest, it was the least they deserved. Trying to hurry himself along, Dean picked up a leather bound book. This looked more like a hunter's journal. It reminded him of his father's. Unfolding the front cover, Dean realised it was in fact Thomas O'Brien's journal. Flicking through to the end, Dean found an entry after the 17th October, 1990.

 

**Sunday, 25th October, 1990.**

 

**I intend this to be my last entry. My brother and I were sending the spirits on their way, but something must have given us away. We mustn't have been as careful as we thought. The police found us, and we were taken to their cells. They intended to keep us overnight while they decided what to do with us, but demons found us. We'd exorcised them earlier in the year, and they'd only just escaped hell again. They got into the cells, and-**

 

Here, the ink was blurred. Tear drops. Dean could still make out the writing, so continued to read. He felt like he already knew how this would end.

 

**The ------ --- into the cells, and there was nothing -- ----- do. One possessed Finnan, and as I ----- to exorcise it, -- stabbed itself, my br-----, and laughed in my face. THERE W-- --THING I COULD DO! My brother died, and I exor----- the son of a bitch, and escaped. Finnan is gone, and I'm all alone -- --- ---ld. I'm going to leave our notes ---- --- any hunter that happe-- -- -ead them. If you have a b------ ---- do not take him for granted. Cherish every moment you have with him, because you don't kn-- --en you'll lose him. Go---ye.**

 

Dean closed the book with a final thud. He replaced all of the clippings with a heavy heart. Dean knew exactly what Thomas had gone through. He knew too well. Both he and Sam had gone through that hell numerous times. They'd been through actual hell, too. Not many people could say that.

 

Picking up the machete and blood again, Dean quickly looked through the rest of his part of the basement. Now, many plastic sheets concealed the rest of the room. Steeling himself, Dean pulled the sheets to the side, his machete thrust in front of him. Nothing, just more covered furniture and shelves. Guiding himself by the light on his phone, Dean found a door just to his right. Cool, secret entrance. This place was probably littered with them. He picked his way carefully over the sheets to the door. He reached down to the handle, and gasped as he grabbed it. _Christ, that's cold!_ Dean turned the handle, and it clicked. What a stroke of luck, it was unlocked. Lucky him. Swinging the door open, Dean shone his crappy phone light into the... cupboard? It was a freaking cupboard, of course it was. A freaking cupboard full of freaking glass jars, full of that freaking liquid. Well, his part was empty, except for weird shit in weird jars. Dean swung the door shut quietly. Well, he should get back to Sam and- Wait. Would that mean that... The vampire was either upstairs... Or in Cas' side. _Shit_. Dean dashed out of his room, regretting reading the clippings and hoping to God he wasn't too late.

 

·····

 

Without turning back, Cas pushed open the door. It swung open almost soundlessly, the hinges only speaking slightly. Someone had been down here recently. Cas had the sudden urge to call out _here, vampy vampy_ , but brought himself back down to earth and focused on actually finding the vampire without making a meal of himself. Literally and figuratively. His torch cast a solid beam of light around the room. It was relatively small. Well, the part he was in right now, anyway. The rest was obscured by some whitish half-transparent plastic sheets, which were suspended from rails across the ceiling. It wasn't the nicest basement Cas had ever been in. The walls, ceiling and floor were concrete, and not even finished off smoothly, instead rough, crude and bumpy. Cas walked over to the wall on his left, and followed it down until he found what he was hoping he would find; a light switch. He'd probably given his position away already, what with the torch and his heavy step. So Cas grabbed the string and pulled on it.

 

A dim light bulb in the centre glowed to life, flickering occasionally, but doing its job. Cas clicked off his torch and crouched down slowly, placing it on the floor. Every one of his nerves were now alert, listening and watching out for any movement. With the torch on the floor, Cas now had a spare hand. As he stood back up just as slowly, every muscle straining, Cas transferred the syringe of dead man's blood to his left, leaving his right hand free for a better grip on the machete. He shouldn't need to use the machete, but it was there for emergencies. Their mission was to detain, not kill. As Cas listened, he heard a sudden scratching sound. He tensed, ready for a fight, and stayed in that position until he realised nothing was coming towards him.

 

Satisfied that the vamp wasn't approaching, Cas moved on. The part he was in at the moment was relatively empty, so Cas easily traced the noise to a weird ass cupboard. Bracing himself, Cas gingerly took hold of one of the handles with his right hand, leaving the hand he was holding the dead man's blood with free for attack. Instead of counting down from three (he knew he'd lose face), Cas just flung open the door.

 

He almost shouted out, but stopped himself. The cat jumped out of the top of the cupboards and strolled off, flicking its tail at Cas as he tried to steady his heart and catch his breath. _Stupid cat!_ Cas mentally shouted at the thing as it sauntered off behind the sheets, into the second part of the basement. Leaning against the cupboard, Cas calmed himself down. If he was going to get scared of a cat, how the hell would he hunt monsters? Just as his heart rate started to return to normal, Cas heard a screeching from the other side of the basement. It sounded like the cat; what had it done now? Wait, the vampire. Despite his hate for the little beast, Cas dashed over to the sheets, and lifted them to the side with his machete. There was a door in front of him, that was slightly open. The cat had stopped now, but Cas was sure it had been coming from in there. Turning around at the last minute, Cas noticed the sheets actually blocked out all the light from the other side, and the door had probably blocked most of the sound. He still had the element of surprise. Awesome. Cas pushed the door open as quietly as he could and peered into the room.

 

The first thing Cas noticed was the table in the centre of the room. Then he noticed the guy sitting at the table, facing away from him. Then he noticed why the cat wasn't making noise any more, and fought the urge to throw up. Sure, the cat had been a little bastard, but it didn't deserve _that_. This was his chance though, he wasn't going to get a better one than this. Turning the syringe in his hand so that it faced the vamp, Cas didn't count to three. He just ran into the room.

 

The vamp turned at the last second, catching Cas' left hand in its right. As it bared its teeth at Cas, he involuntarily thought back to _that_ hunt, freezing in position. But he couldn't fall apart, not while he was still in danger. Not while Dean was still in potential danger. Just thinking of Dean gave Cas the motivation to move, to not be scared. It was just another bloodsucker, he could take care of this thing. 

 

As the vampire leaned in, Cas reacted. Kicking out his right leg to push the vamp as far away as he could while still letting the vamp keep hold of his arm, Cas swung the blade down on the vamp's wrist as powerfully as he could. Sure enough, Cas got his desired effect. The vampire screamed out as Cas separated its wrist from its arm. While he was distracted, Cas stabbed him in the neck with the dead man's blood.

 

"Enjoy yourself, assbutt." Cas said to it, then delivered a sharp kick to his head, knocking him out for good. Now to find Dean and Sam, and get the hell out of this place before the cops showed up, and the ambulance, and God knows what else.


	10. Don't Tell The Moose!

Dean made it to his door and pulled it open with such a force that it bounced off the wall, making a tremendous _crash_. Without stopping, he barrelled through the next door using his shoulder as a battering ram. _Crash_. Dean looked around him, trying not to panic as he didn't spot Cas. He'd been right: Cas' room was smaller by a lot, maybe more than a half. But no Cas. As he walked forwards, he knocked over something on the floor. Dreading what he might see, Dean's stomach dropped as he looked down. It was Cas' torch. _Cas, please be okay_. Dean prayed to his boyfriend quietly.

Leaving the torch where it was, rolling on the bumpy concrete floor, Dean edged forwards to the sheets at the far end of the room. He was sure he'd just heard a shout. Mentally keeping his fingers crossed, Dean pushed the sheets aside with his machete, revealing a heavy, metal door. God, his nerves were fried. Seriously, something else for him to poke his head around, and hope there wasn't a jump scare? Swallowing nervously, Dean peered around the door. _Oh God, oh God, oh God._

The first thing Dean saw was Cas, standing over someone.

"Enjoy yourself, assbutt."

As Dean watched, Cas delivered a pretty good kick to the guy's head. Wait, not guy. Dean recognised the guy as Luke, the one that had gone missing. So vamp, then.

Cas turned around as noticed Dean, who's head was still poked around the edge of the door. Now that he knew Cas was okay, better than okay, Dean had a grin on his face.

"I was just gonna look for you. Can you help me with him? I won't be able to drag him up the stairs." Cas was smiling too, now.

"Sure thing. Now, what was that about tonight?" Dean couldn't help but be proud of Cas. He'd taken down that vamp pretty easily, from what Dean had seen.

Cas walked towards Dean, and leaned forwards. Dean leaned into him, but as he was about to kiss him, Cas moved to the side, instead stroking the side of Dean's face. "You get to find out tonight." He whispered in Dean's ear, then moved off to the vampire. "Come on, get over here and help me!"

Dean groaned, and walked over to the knocked out vamp. "On three. One, two. Three!"

God, this guy was heavier than he looked.

·····

Sam had been waiting way too long. All he had encountered was a rat. The girl hadn't woken, but Sam thought she was stable. Checking his watch again, Sam made it to have been 12 minutes. If they didn't hurry up, the ambulance would arrive before they got out of here. _Come on, Dean, Cas. Hurry._

He couldn't see much around him, Cas was using his torch. They really needed to invest in a new torch. Maybe they could do with three new ones, their current two were close to giving up after the amount of times they'd been dropped. They were scratched and dinted, and sometimes flickered even if they were no where near anything supernatural. Which became especially annoying when they were in the vicinity of some weird creature, demon or ghost. But they'd done well to hang on for the couple of years they had. If he'd had a torch now, the rat probably wouldn't have scared him as much. Having something unknown scuttle across your legs is pretty disturbing. Sam was now sat cross-legged, not wanting to stretch his legs out in case more creepy critters decided to have an adventure.

At least the room wasn't completely pitch black. The light of the moon was casting an eerie glow over parts of the room, giving Sam a faint impression of what it looked like. There was a table in one particular patch of light, with some papers and ornaments placed haphazardly on it. One of the legs had snapped and the stump was balanced on a chair, which looked equally as dilapidated. Sam was curious as to what the papers said, but held himself back. He needed to stay by the girl's side, make sure she stayed alive. Sam checked her pulse again. Still faintly there, still fairly stable.

Straining his ears, Sam heard something. Was that...? Sirens. Shit, they were out of time. Just as Sam started to worry, he heard footsteps. Could be the vampire. Not wanting to risk it, Sam held his machete towards the doorway, manoeuvring his legs so that he could attack if needs be. There were a few tense seconds, and then Cas rounded the corner, Dean close behind him. Sam was pretty sure he saw Dean slap Cas' ass. _Dude, could you be more obvious?_

"Whoa, drop the machete, it's just us!" Dean half shouted, half whispered, hands in the air.

"We got the vamp. The ambulance will be here in a second. We need to go." Cas interrupted the two brothers.

"Agreed." Sam stood up. "She's stable. Do we just leave her here?"

"I guess... Moving her could kill her... Okay, we leave her, but shine the torches at her so they can find her." Dean pulled his torch out and angled it at the girl, balancing it against a table and a chair.

"Shit, I left mine in the basement!" Cas realised, looking around.

Cas was hot when he swore. "Language." Dean grinned. "And I noticed. It's okay, this one should be enough to indicate where she is. We'll just have to buy another two. Not that it costs us anything." He winked at Cas. "Let's get the hell outta Dodge." Dean lead the way out of the back of the house, picking their way through the dark hallway.

They pulled away just as flashing lights appeared at the other end of the road. All three of them were squished into the front, with the vampire laid in the back seat. They couldn't fit him in the boot because of all their crap. Five minutes later, on a dark, secluded back road, the boys collaborated, chaining up the vamp and giving it another dose of dead man's blood, "As a welcoming present," according to Cas, and to make sure he was still out cold.

Once they were back on the road, Sam spoke up. "You guys really did a good one on him. I noticed he was missing a hand."

"Nope, it was all Cas. He was such a badass, by the way." Dean smiled proudly from the driver's seat, resisting the urge to kiss the pre-angel sat next to him. It was probably best that he didn't crash the Impala. He could tell Cas was resisting the urge to rest his head on Dean's shoulder. The sooner they told Sam, the better. Possibly.

"Mhmm. You did good, Cas." The sooner Dean told him about him and Cas, the better. Definitely. It looked like all Cas wanted to do was to rest his head on Dean's shoulder - he kept drifting to the right, then straightening up, as if he was remembering Sam was there. _Cas, just do it!_

It was frustrating watching the two of them sometimes.

Sam turned to look out of the window, resting his head against the cold glass. The scenery flashed by in a blur of muted colour, the Impala's head lamps casting a yellow glow on the road in front of them. Glancing into the mirror, Sam was glad to see that Cas had given into the temptation and had fallen asleep on Dean's shoulder, thinking Sam was sleeping too. Don't get him wrong, he was knackered, and would gladly fall asleep right now. If only he could fall asleep sitting up. He'd always been one of those people who had to be laying down to fall asleep. Nevertheless, the ride didn't take too long, and they pulled up to the bunker less than 10 minutes later. Drawing on his non existent acting skills, Sam pretended to be waking up from his fake sleep. When Sam looked around, Cas was sat up, looking wide awake. God, they were good at covering their tracks. Sam wouldn't have suspected a thing if he hadn't seen them cuddling with his own eyes.

"I say we drop this douche off in the basement and get a solid 4 hours before starting on him. Cas looks ready to drop, and you've been asleep for the past ten minutes." Dean suggested, pulling himself out of Baby.

"Sounds fair. Hey, you guys go in ahead, I can get this guy." Sam followed Dean round to the back doors.

"You sure? He's a heavy son of a bitch."

"I'm sure. He won't mind being dragged, if it comes to that, anyways."

"Okay." Dean didn't sound wholly convinced, but walked over to the bunker anyway, Cas just behind him. If he knew his brother at all, Sam knew what to expect tonight. Sighing, he grabbed the vamp's legs and started dragging.


End file.
